All In
by legallyblained
Summary: When Kurt turns thirty, he decides to adopt a baby. Who should he meet the very same day, but a certain very pretty 21-year-old art student, Blaine? Note: I didn't realise I'd listed the story as complete! There's still more to come! Bear with me!
1. Chapter 1

"Honestly, you need to calm down. Anybody would think you'd never filled out a form before."

Kurt gets that look – that slightly manic, wide-eyed, wanting-to-strangle-Santana-Lopez look that she's been seeing more and more of in the last couple of months.

"God, you're so right! It's no biggie! I just need to chill! Not like this form is the most important document I will ever sign or anything!"

She grimaces.

"I know you're stressed, but please never say 'chill' again."

"This form is it. This is The Form. This form is going to change my life."

"It might not. You might get rejected."

His face falls. He used to be much better at taking a joke. Rachel gives Santana's arm a hard pinch.

"They would be idiots to turn you down, Kurt. It'll work. They'll love you."

"And if not, my offer of ova still stands. Because I'm a good friend. And I heard egg donors get, like, a tonne of money."

Kurt lowers his head onto his kitchen table while the girls squabble behind him.

"If he's going to use anyone's eggs, it'll be mine. We've been best friends since back when you were still mean to us. And through all the times since then when you've continued to be mean to us. And right now, when you are still being very mean to him in his hour of need."

"A kid that's half you, half Kurt? Do you have any idea how much bullying that child would have to go through? I'd call CPS before you could even get your hands on a turkey baster."

"I told you," Kurt's voice is just audible where he mumbles into the table, "I'm not going down that route. There are thousands of kids in the world who need homes. And you're both going to be the most obnoxious aunts imaginable as it is, without having any biological connections. Now please leave me alone so I can at least spell my own name without interruptions."

"Whatever, I have to go to work anyway. Knock 'em dead, babe." Santana bends down to kiss Kurt's cheek. "Or a more appropriate metaphor. I'll see you at seven, with a large expensive bottle of something, and a lot of leg on display." Kurt hears the click of Santana's heels and the standard door slam. He makes a mental note to talk to her about noise pollution and how easily woken up babies are. Or just not to invite her over for his first year or so of parenthood. Rachel pulls up the chair next to him and strokes his hair, and he raises his head to look at her.

She's going with the 'are-you-sure-about-this' face and he sighs.

"Don't start."

"I just don't get it, Kurt."

He drops his head onto the table more quickly now, four times before she takes his face in both of her hands.

"One last time and I swear I'll stop. You know that the second this form is posted I am in 100% support mode, backing you all the way. I just want to make sure this is definitely what you want."

"I'm waiting for the rest of the speech."

"What speech?" He raises an eyebrow, and when she starts talking he can more or less mouth along with each word. "Kurt, you're such a catch. You're young and you're so intelligent and fun and gorgeous! The right guy could be waiting around the corner! Then you could have a baby the way you've always wanted!"

"Rachel, unless you have got Taylor Lautner's gay twin brother's phone number in your purse, I'm going to be a little more realistic. I've done the dating thing for, what, twelve years? I mean, everyone fantasizes about falling in love, but I can't keep waiting for a fantasy. I don't want to wait. Maybe when I was in my twenties I thought I would get married first, but-"

"But you've only been thirty for thirteen hours!"

"And that's the age I said I would start this process. I'm not sitting around for something that might never happen." She looks like she might cry and she takes his hand. He doesn't pull it away. "I wanted to live in New York, so I moved to New York. I wanted to be a writer and I became one. I've wanted kids since I can remember, and I'm in a place in my life where I have the time and space and money to make it happen, so I'm filling out this very complicated form, and it's giving me a headache already without your help. So can you do what I asked you to come here for, and proofread this when I'm done and make sure I sound like a perfect parent?"

She gives his hand a squeeze. "You don't need my help for that. But I'll do whatever I can."

"Thank you."

She rests her head on his shoulder and he presses a kiss into her hair. He does love how much she cares, even if she is a hopeless romantic.

"You know, you really are going to be a great dad. Somewhere out there is the beginnings of the luckiest baby in the whole world."

"I hope so. Right. The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can start celebrating my birthday in a way that involves less administration."

"And a lot more tequila."

"That's the kind of support I was hoping for." She grins and starts scanning the page on the table, checking through what Kurt's already filled in, apparently convinced enough to start being helpful. In spite of her keeping her promise to stop pestering him, he can't help feeling the need to add, "I promise this is what I want. I know it's not what you and Jesse will have, and maybe it's not what I thought I would have either, but… I really want this. I want to give a home to a child who needs it. I want to be a father. I want that more than I've ever wanted any guy."

She looks up at him and nods.

"I trust you, Kurt. Let's get you a baby."

He smiles and hugs her, giving a little squeak of excitement. It's finally happening.

Kurt wears his smartest suit for the short walk to the post box. He insisted Rachel go home and get ready for the evening, because he felt like he needed to do this alone, but now that he's here he kind of wishes there was someone else with him. Just an arm looped through his would have been nice. He shrugs off the feeling and smiles at the envelope.

'I can't wait to meet you, wherever you are' he thinks. This isn't what he used to picture. But it still feels like there are fireworks in his stomach, and he can't stop smiling as he walks home through the park.

Everyone has managed to keep their birthday plans for him very quiet so far – even though Kurt knows exactly what they will entail. Santana's bribed the taxi driver to go down plenty of side streets and alleyways but it's not quite enough to confuse him. Not that he really minds.

"So, do you feel different?" She asks. "Now that you've taken the first step?"

Kurt pauses. He wasn't expecting a serious conversation from Santana this evening.

"I don't know. I don't think so. I thought I might start panicking and thinking I'd made the wrong decision or something, but I haven't. I feel really calm about it. Like for years I've been building up to doing this, and now I have it's like a weight has been lifted off. Like I'm finally doing the right thing. If anything, I just want it to happen faster."

She smiles. "I figured. Look, I know I'm not supposed to get sentimental or anything, because it's not what I do, but I just want to say because it's your birthday and I've already had a fair amount of champagne, that you're going to be an amazing dad, okay? That kid, whoever and wherever they are, is so damn lucky."

Even though this side of Santana always catches him off guard when she makes an appearance, it's Kurt's favourite.

"Thanks, Tana. Love you."

"Uh-huh." She looks out of the window. "So you need to make the most of your current lack of responsibility tonight. Shots as soon as we get there?"

"Assuming it's a bar. Which I obviously don't know."

"Shut up. You are totally oblivious to the fact that we are going where we always go because we all know you'll have a great time. And because you know the owner. More importantly, are you planning on doing anything scandalous? To make me proud?"

"Santana-"

"No, I know, that's not your thing, but you've been super stressed for months about getting those stupid forms and calling in all your references, and you've finally done it. Now it's your birthday and soon you'll be stuck at home with a puking kid, and you deserve to get all kinds of laid tonight."

"Hey! If you'd let me finish, I was about to say that… I'm not totally against the idea."

"What?!"

"It's always been kind of a bucket list thing. Sex with a random stranger. Might be exciting."

Santana's mouth is just hanging open. "Oh. I, uh. Um. Right."

"What? You asked."

"It's just… my baby's all grown up! I'm so proud, I might cry."

"I hate you."

"Fifty bucks says you can't go through with it." He sticks out his hand and they shake on it. "Love you too, by the way. Or something."

He grins, and they pull up to a very familiar spot.

It still feels odd calling themselves 'Pamela Lansbury' when they go out, but it's a habit they've never been able to shake. Their first and last public gig was over a decade ago, and Callbacks has long since closed, been bought by Elliott, refurbished, and transformed into an intimate, exclusive bar, and is now the hottest venue in a twelve-block radius. He still gives into Rachel's desperate pleas for monthly karaoke nights, and he's pulled out all the stops for Kurt's thirtieth. Even though he insists it's not a Broadway hangout any more, he's invested in the backing tracks for every musical he knows, and the discographies of Streisand, Garland and Lupone. He'll never live it down, but he and Kurt have always been close. They almost became more than friends, but it was clear that they wanted very different things, and they've never let it get weird. So he refuses to let this milestone pass without a bang.

"Ladies, gentlemen, and everybody of every possible identity between or outside the creepy binary system the straights have put in place, we are here tonight to celebrate the birthday of our very dear friend, Kurt Hummel! Can we all give him the adoration he deserves?"

The crowd goes crazy, and Kurt goes pink but takes a bow nonetheless. Rachel, Dani and Santana all climb onto the stage and Kurt frowns. He has a pretty good idea of where this is going.

"Now," Santana says into a microphone he didn't even notice before, "it's time for us to celebrate the only way we know how, because we were all raised to be emotionally incompetent and very gay, so we'd like to invite the birthday boy on stage for a reunion of probably the worst band of all time. Kurt?" She gestures to him, and Dani reaches out to help him up.

He wishes he were more surprised, really.

He takes the mic offered to him by Elliott.

"Well, today's a big day, I guess. Might as well say goodbye to my days of being young and carefree properly. What are we singing?"

"I think you know," Rachel sing-sings into her microphone. "Hit it!"

The band strikes up with a somewhat indie version of Madonna's 'Get Together' and Kurt punches the air in triumph. This was his exact vision for this band at twenty, and here he is ten years later living it, on the verge of the one thing he's always wanted right about to start. The shots from earlier are warming his chest, his skin is still covered in goosebumps, and he's surrounded by his favourite people in the world. He feels truly fantastic, and he's just downed the champagne given to him by Rachel when Dani's hitting the best part of the song flawlessly on guitar, the high note piercing right through him, and that's when he sees him.

He stops in his tracks while Rachel sings 'do you believe in love at first sight' and honest to god stares at him. He can't be older than twenty-five, dark hair, eyes that seem to sparkle from across the room, plum suit with a striped bowtie. He comes in with a couple of others, but they fade into blackness because he's so damn pretty and he's staring right at Kurt. In all fairness, Kurt's got a spotlight on him and he's staring at him too.

When the song ends, he can't tell if it's the rush of performing again after such a long time, the waves of love he feels coming from his friends, the excitement of the momentous decision he made today, or the intense eye contact between him and the guy for the last solid minute, but he feels exhilarated. Energized. Like this guy could help him earn that fifty bucks from Santana.

The crowd is genuinely going wild, possibly because of the two-for-one shots, but Kurt's happy to bask in it. The guy's clapping along with everyone else, and Kurt feels someone right up close to him and Elliott whispers, "If you don't fuck him in the next ten minutes, I'm revoking your gay card and cancelling this entire party. Go."

Kurt snorts and tries to shrug it off. He never really did the hooking up at parties thing even in college, so maybe it would be stupid to do it now that he's thirty with all of his friends watching him and an application to become a parent in the mail. Even if traditionally, having kids started with people having sex. Still, he follows his friends to the bar through a stream of flirtatious smiles – of course now would be when he gets floods of attention – and a few congratulatory slaps on the butt from the girls. He is faced with all of his former bandmates grinning at him, Elliott holding a shot out for him, and with a loud 'Fuck it' he downs it and winces. He's managed to avoid getting quite as drunk as he did exactly a year ago, when his twenty-ninth birthday resulted in him spending the night clinging to Rachel's toilet and crying over the lack of eligible bachelors in New York. This feels much, much better: it appears there is at least one hot guy left in the city, and Kurt's about 80% sure that he won't throw up at the end of the night.

Santana toasts "To Kurt's baby!" and they all join in, until their expressions suddenly change. They look at the floor and each other, and there's a smooth voice right behind Kurt.

"What's everybody toasting here?"

Oh, fuck.

"To Kurt, baby! Cause he's so groovy!"

Kurt both loves and hates Dani in that moment, but the prettiest man Kurt has ever seen seems willing to go with it, and he silently thanks her for covering for him.

"Well, groovy Kurt, would you be able to manage one more drink? On me?"

Rachel bumps her hip against Kurt's, and before he can blink he's stumbling into the guy's arms, and they're warm, and everything is a little too warm, and he doesn't think another drink is a good idea if he's not going to make a total idiot in front of Mr Handsome Face. He's trying to figure out his next move when he notices that he's still slumped against the stranger who is just about managing to hold him up.

He straightens up, only wobbling a little. "Um. Sure. Vodka tonic, please." While the others stare at Kurt's new friend with shit-eating grins on their faces, he looks at him and hears himself sigh. Loudly. Santana glares at him as if to say 'get your shit together, Hummel, or you're not getting a cent from me.'

"So, it's your birthday?"

"Mm-hmm. Our boy's twenty-three today."

Tomorrow, Kurt will not think this is particularly funny, but right now it seems hilarious and a giggle escapes from him. A drink is put in his hand, the man passes money over the bar, and god it really is too hot in here. And he wants to kiss this guy's face off without his friends' eyes on him. "Could we maybe go outside for a minute?" The stranger nods.

"It was lovely meeting all of you," he says, and he seems genuinely intimidated by this cluster of idiots. They've got the protective death-stare down by now. Kurt mouths 'stop it,' and Santana smiles wickedly, slipping the fifty bucks back into her cleavage until she has definitive proof of Kurt getting groovy.

"Maybe he could call you daddy. Give you some practice."

Dani howls. Rachel is scandalized. They all get back to the dancefloor.

Kurt feels a hand on his lower back, and he thinks it's both supporting him and threatening to make him melt on the spot. The cold air on his face is nothing short of glorious.

"So, Mr Gorgeous Drink-Buying Man, would you be offended if I didn't drink this?"

"Sorry?"

"That was a perfect chance to tell me your name, but whatever. I can't have another drink. I think I might actually die if I drink this." This isn't really true. He just wants to make sure he remembers whatever happens with this guy. "Would you like it?"

"I think I might have some catching up to do. Hand it over." He guides them both towards a bench and takes the drink. He sips it and winces. "God. No. Just no. Can't. I think he forgot the tonic. I'm Blaine, by the way."

"I'm Kurt. But you knew that already."

"Groovy Kurt."

"That's me. So groovy. The grooviest. We used to do that song! Get into the Groove!"

"You and your friends? So you really are a band? That's so cool!"

Kurt clears his throat. "No big deal. Few covers. Some originals. Mostly local shows. We did a dog adoption day once."

"Oh. Okay. Do bands normally do those?"

Kurt wags his finger at Blaine, screaming internally that this is not a sexy way to behave, or a sexy thing to talk about, and that nothing about this display is sexy.

"Ah, but we are not a normal band!" This of course means 'we called ourselves a band in college for a whole month but now we all have jobs' but Blaine just smiles a handsome, slightly bashful smile.

"I mean this in the nicest possible way, Kurt: I don't think anybody would ever call you normal."

Kurt feels his face heat up. He feels like he should go back inside and talk to Rachel about this. Because he wants to take this boy home and ravish him, just to be reckless for once while he still can, even though it's so not something he would usually do. Something about tonight has transformed him for the night into Groovy Kurt, full-time band member, man about town, and the kind of person who would definitely take this beautiful man home for a night of wild, carefree passion. His legs are refusing to move back inside towards Rachel and away from lovely warm Blaine. It's like there's a tiny Santana on his shoulder egging him on as he cups Blaine's cheek and kisses him, all messy tongue and teeth clicking together and kind of a disaster but Kurt could do it for hours.

"Do you want to get out of here? My place is just a couple of blocks away."

"Sorry?"

"I think I want to fuck you."

Blaine's mouth falls open for a minute. God, Groovy Kurt is so suave. "Um. Yes. Please."

Kurt's legs are thankfully willing to cooperate now. "Just a second. Let me text Rachel and tell her I'm leaving."

Kurt: OH MY FUCKIGN GOD I TOLDHIM I WANTNA FUCK HMI GOING BACK OT INE NOW LOVE YOU THANKKS FOR BITHRTDYA LVOE YOU OS OMCUH XXXXXXXXX

Rachel: Okay, sweetie! Use protection and drink a big glass of water before you go to sleep! Love you too birthday boy! Xxx

This is not the only reply he receives. To be fair, he didn't stipulate that his message was confidential.

Dani: YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAS QUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEN

Elliott: Happy birthday! Nobody is more deserving of one last fuck of freedom!

Santana: OH MY GODDDD BIRTHDAY SLUT UR AUNTY TANA IS SO PROUD OF YOU GO AND GET IT

Santana: I CANNOT BELIEB

Santana: MY LIL GAY GRANDMA HAVING HIS FIRST ONE NIGHT STAND

Santana: PLS DON'T THROW UP ON HIM

Santana: OR HIS DICK

Santana: DON'T KNOW HOW TP GET OHONE OFF CPAS

Santana: oh ok got it lmao bye

Kurt switches his phone to silent, grips Blaine's hand firmly in his, and decides they should run back to his place as fast as possible.

"This doesn't really look like the kind of place a singer in a band would have. I love it."

"Oh. Well, I hate to conform to stereotypes. I figure the least clichéd band member home aesthetic I could go for would be, like, suburban accountant."

The run home has definitely sobered him up. It's also made him kind of sweaty and red and breathless, and more than a little bit sleepy. But god, Blaine's still so fucking handsome and Kurt feels like he might still have just enough momentum left of his reckless streak to do some very fun things with him.

"No, really, this place is gorgeous. How can you afford this?"

Because I'm not twenty-three or in a band or remotely cool. I'm thirty and I'm a very successful journalist and a big sap who just wants to have kids. I need my place to be family friendly for adoption people to visit. In the very near future.

He spots the first three drafts of his application form on the table and stands in front of them.

"Oh, well… I write. I write songs for other artists." What? "And some little music reviews sometimes." And fashion editorials and political pieces and double page features BECAUSE THAT IS MY JOB- "Honestly I've just been piecing together odd bits of work and it's turned out well. And, uh, I inherited money. From my… grandmother."

The one-night-stand thing is rather freeing. Kurt can invent whatever history he wants. Deep down he would actually like to tell Blaine the truth, because Kurt's never been much of a liar and somehow lying to Blaine feels really unseemly, for someone who's just been nice so far and is currently fetching Kurt a glass of water.

"Oh, you don't have to-"

"Please, it's fine. I couldn't live with myself if I didn't make sure you were hydrated."

Oh. He's so kind.

Kurt stops tentatively sipping the water, puts the glass down and grabs Blaine's lapels and kisses him. Blaine's surprised but there isn't an ounce of hesitation when he kisses back, his hands on Kurt's waist pulling him close.

"Blaine," Kurt gasps in a way that he is sure is very seductive, "I am gonna fuck your Blaines out."

Blaine snorts.

"Okiedokie."

"Brains! I meant brains! Totally gonna fuck your brains out. Why are you making that face?"

Blaine is clearly holding back a snigger. "Face? What face? I'm super excited for all the fucking-out of my brains. My brains are pumped right now."

"Stop laughing. You're ruining it."

"No, no- you just don't really strike me as the kind of person to tell someone he just met that he wants to fuck their brains out. But it's fine, knock yourself out. Can't wait."

Kurt huffs a little but kisses Blaine again anyway, but has to pull back when he feels him shaking. "I said stop laughing!" Blaine shows no signs of stopping.

"Have you ever had a one-night stand before? You know, it's fine if you haven't; it's not for everybody."

"Shut up. I'm usually, like… busy. Right, we're gonna go upstairs, and you're gonna take your shirt off, and we are gonna have so much sex you won't even believe it. Come on."

He takes Blaine's hand again, and Blaine is more than happy to follow him upstairs. When they reach the top Kurt puts his hands on Blaine's waist and pushes him forward, and he almost veers into the spare room. "No! Not in there!"

Blaine frowns. "What? What's in there?"

"Oh, it's- it's just the spare room. Not enough space for what I have planned."

Blaine almost laughs at the idea that Kurt had 'planned' any of this evening, but realizes that he probably shouldn't do anything that will slow things down. They crash into Kurt's bedroom, grabbing clumsily at each other. The bowtie falls to the floor. A button pops off and almost hits Blaine in the eye. Kurt's head gets stuck in his shirt for more time than is dignified. By the time they flop onto the bed, they're both wheezing with laughter, still half-dressed, and Kurt's head flops forward onto Blaine's shoulder.

"Are you really sure you want to do this?"

"I think so?"

"Care to elaborate?"

"Um. You're gorgeous. And I think if I don't do this I'll kick myself tomorrow."

"But…"

"But this has been a really stressful week, like, you have no idea, and I just. I don't know."

Blaine smiles up at the man straddling his thighs. He reaches up to brush a rogue strand of hair out of Kurt's eyes.

"Who says we have to do everything tonight? What's the rush?"

I want to make the most of you before my whole life gets changed forever.

"I… it's my birthday." His voice is quieter than before, as he realizes just how much he's holding back. "I want you. I do."

"But you are a cold, cruel man, and you are so mean that all we're going to do tonight is make out a lot. Which still makes tonight about a hundred times better than I thought it was going to be. Honestly, I just wanted to spend more time with the most interesting guy at the bar, so as long as that happens, I'm good."

Kurt's mouth hangs open long enough for Blaine to smile again before reaching up and kissing him. This time it's so slow the whole world seems to grind to a halt, and so gentle Kurt feels like he shouldn't move for at least an hour afterwards in case he disturbs the air around them.

But he does move.

He kisses Blaine back, and their bodies shift together easily until they're lying side by side. He feels Blaine's hand slipping under his shirt, only to rest on his back, pulling him close. Kurt's hand finds its way to Blaine's cheek, feels the light dusting of stubble, the curve of a smile he sees every time their lips pull apart. It not sexual. It's romantic, and terrifyingly intimate, and the safest Kurt has felt for the longest time. The stress of the last few months, and the worry about what comes next are gone.

An hour goes by in what feels like five minutes, and they're still talking.

"So," Blaine says between pressing kisses to Kurt's jaw, "what's your favourite animal?"

It's such a curveball that Kurt almost headbutts him. "Excuse me?"

"Don't pretend you don't have a favourite, okay. Everyone does. Mine is the majestic manatee."

"Like, sea cows?"

"Yep. They're so serene. I just look at pictures of them whenever I feel sad, and everything seems better."

"Right. Fair enough." Blaine looks at him expectantly. "So, you're serious? You want me to spend my thirtieth birthday choosing my favourite animal?"

"No, I want you to spend the day after your thirtieth birthday – because it's 3am and you can't play the birthday card anymore – telling me your favourite animal. Because you definitely already have one."

Kurt smiles in spite of himself. He always thought one-night-stands would involve less talking and sighing, and in all honesty a lot more sex, but this is the most disarming man he's ever met. He just can't bring himself to be guarded or cynical about anything.

"Giraffes."

Blaine scoffs. "I can't believe you have a favourite animal. You're a thirty-year-old man."

Kurt shoves into Blaine's shoulder. "Fine. Not telling you anything else ever again."

"No, no, I'm sorry! Please, Kurt, tell me why giraffes are your favourite animals."

Kurt tangles his and Blaine's fingers together and lies on his back. Blaine slides his hand over Kurt's stomach and nudges at the buttons on his shirt. He shoots Kurt a look of 'is this okay?' Kurt nods, and Blaine slowly starts to unfasten them.

"They're weird, I guess," he says, his fingers teasing at the hair at the back of Blaine's neck as Blaine kisses his collar bone, "they're ridiculously tall and they have those pointless little horns on their heads, and they look like they should fall over constantly, but they don't. I remember my dad taking me to the zoo when I was little, and I was this little gay kid in Ohio and I didn't have any friends and I felt so out of place everywhere, but- they were totally out of place. And they made it work. They should have been awkward and stupid, but they were just graceful. Elegant. That's why they're my favourite."

Blaine props himself up on his elbow.

"Wow."

"What?"

"Nothing, I'm just- astounded by how good you are at this game. Are you sure you've never played before?"

"Are you making fun of me?"

"Absolutely not. I was expecting, like, 'they're tall', and you went and got real. Incredible."

Kurt feels his cheeks start to get hot. "Okay, okay, fine. I'm a dork."

Blaine's face shows nothing but concern. "No. You're amazing." He kisses him, just a peck. "I think you just became my favourite person on the planet. And for what it's worth, I think I would have been friends with little Kurt."

Kurt snorts. "I don't think you would have been able to walk. I was six, which would have made you…"

"Oh. Um. Three years away from being born."

Kurt groans. "Oh my god. Of course. Of course you're twenty-one. Jesus."

"Then I guess it's a good thing this is just a purely physical one-night thing, right? Except instead of crazy animal sex, it's just breathtaking animal metaphors for our place in society. Super casual." Kurt rubs his hand over his face, but as soon as he opens his eyes, Blaine is kissing him again. "I'm sorry you felt out of place, Kurt."

He smiles. "It's okay. It just made me stronger in the end. I embraced my inner giraffe."

"Still. Wish I could have… I don't know. Made you feel better." They just look at each other for a moment, and it makes them both feel so raw and exposed they almost forget they both still have pants on.

"Well, you've made me feel much better about turning thirty. Until the negative three thing." Blaine grins. "Okay, I know this has been a really weird night, but I should probably go to sleep. As much as I would like to stay up talking and getting felt up, I think my eyes are going to close soon whether I want them to or not. Sorry."

"Oh, no, it's cool. I actually have work in the morning."

"Wait. Where do you work? Did I even ask?"

"Don't worry about it. It's this tiny place, totally unknown. You probably haven't heard of it."

"Where is it?"

"Starbucks."

Even though Blaine has turned away from him, Kurt can feel him grinning. "Star what? What even is that place?"

"It's an aquarium. Just me and a bunch of manatees, chilling every day." Kurt laughs, and Blaine looks back over his shoulder, a slightly goofy smile on his lips. They kiss once more, like it's part of a long-established bedtime routine. Kurt starts to settle himself, but Blaine tugs on his hand. "Kurt, my brains remain tragically non-fucked-out. A dutiful host would spoon me at the very least." He shuffles back so his body is nestled comfortably against Kurt. It feels so natural it's almost alarming, but Kurt is too exhausted and calm to question it. He presses a kiss to Blaine's shoulder blades and wraps an arm around his middle.

He's never getting that fifty bucks from Santana.

The last thing Kurt remembers is warmth.

The first thing he feels when he wakes up is a gentle press of lips against his cheek.

The second thing he feels is a lot of pain. There is a loud groan, and it takes him a moment to realise it's coming from him.

It's followed shortly after by the smell of pancakes wafting towards him. For a second he thinks it might make him heave, but it doesn't. Against his body's vehement protests, he forces himself to sit up, and even though his brain is throwing itself against his skull repeatedly, he smiles.

On his nightstand is a plate of blueberry pancakes, coffee, a huge glass of water, and a pink post-it note stuck to his phone. Inside a heart on the paper, there is a phone number, and a message.

Phone number of Blaine Anderson, most beautiful man in the world/love of your life probably. Thanks for a perfect night. X

Kurt catches himself sighing in a way that can only be described as dreamy.

Well. This is incredibly inconvenient.


	2. Chapter 2

Kurt doesn't think about Blaine at all for the next two weeks.

Nope.

Because he's too young. He was just a one-night thing. He definitely doesn't keep the post-it note next to his bed. Kurt is trying to become a father, and does not want to fixate on a meaningless crush.

Kurt tells himself these lies every five minutes.

He doesn't call Blaine.

"So I'll probably have to change suppliers again. That's the third time in four months. It's infuriating."

"Mmm."

Elliott stares at Kurt, who is gazing distractedly at the muffins on display.

"Also, I'm on crack. And I'm engaged. To Dolly Parton."

"Okay."

Elliott laughs. "Kurt, where are you? I swear you've been on another planet since your birthday. Has senility already kicked in?"

Kurt shakes himself out of his daze. "Oh. Sorry. Just distracted, I guess. Baby stuff."

"Uh-huh. Except you've been planning that for months and you've still been able to hold a conversation."

"Whatever. I'm just constantly waiting for a phone call now. Stressful."

"This wouldn't have anything to do with that wild birthday bang you've told us all nothing about, would it?"

Kurt goes from absent-minded to closed off in a heartbeat. As he has done every time anyone has brought that night up. The mention of it makes him want to giggle and blush and brag to all of his friends about the amazing night he spent with the cutest, funniest, sweetest guy he'd met in years, but he had to force it down. "No."

"I've pushed a button. Come on, Kurt, what happened? God, he didn't give you anything, did he?"

"No! No, nothing like that. He just – he was nice. It doesn't matter; it's not like I'm ever gonna see him again."

Somewhere, some kind of god was laughing at Kurt hysterically. No sooner had the words left his mouth than he looked up to see a man with hazel eyes, dark curls, and a green apron looking right back at him.

Starbucks. Balls.

For a second, he looks hurt, upset, like he wants to run away, but he steels himself and takes a deep breath, trying to stay composed.

"What can I get you, sir?"

All Elliott can do is stare at them. Even though his instincts are telling him to get the fuck out of there.

"Um. I, uh. I don't…"

"I'll have a tall soy latte please, and he wants a grande non-fat mocha and a blueberry muffin."

Blaine stabs at the screen.

"No problem. Can I take your names?" Kurt looks more stuck and scared than Elliott has ever seen him. Elliott gives Blaine their names, and he doesn't argue when Blaine writes something different, and far more vulgar, on Kurt's cup. He gives Blaine a twenty-dollar bill.

"I think I'm gonna go wait over there. Or just anywhere that's not right here. Awesome."

"And will you be dining in or taking these to go?"

"Blaine, look, I'm sorry I didn't-"

"Sir, you're holding up the line."

"Blaine-"

"There are other customers waiting. I already know that you have far better things to do than talk to me, so I won't hold you up any longer. Collect your drink from the end."

Kurt is nudged out of the way by a woman in a power suit and stilettos, and he goes to wait with Elliott.

"Kurt, what did you do to that poor kid?"

"I didn't call him."

"Wow. Well, whatever you did before not calling him must have been pretty incredible. He hates you."

"Thanks."

The blonde behind the counter looks at the name on the cup in his hand.

"Grande mocha for… Blaine!" he hisses, "I'm not yelling out 'go fuck yourself.' I'd lose my job."

Kurt winces.

"I think that's mine."

Blaine throws one more scowl his way. He knows he deserves it.

"Christ, Kurt, you need to talk to him."

"But it was just a one-night thing."

"I don't care. That guy is pissed. You have to fix it."

"How?"

"That's your problem. I'm going to work. Let me know how it goes."

Kurt takes a seat just out of Blaine's line of vision so he won't distract him, and sips on his drink, trying to figure out what the hell to do. He texts Santana to tell her he'll be late. She responds immediately: "Like you'd be any use to me at the moment anyway. Hope you're okay x"

He just sits for five minutes, trying to come up with a plan. He needs to talk to him somehow, but he has no idea how to make him listen. Maybe he should just let Blaine hate him and avoid this Starbucks for life. But he remembers the way Blaine looked at him that night, and just can't bear to be hated by him no matter how much he might deserve it. Before he can think much further than that, the blonde guy comes to his table with a muffin on a plate. He looks like he's trying to play it cool. He also looks like he's never played anything cool in his life.

"Dude, is he looking?"

"Sorry?"

"Is Blaine looking over here?"

"I think he's deliberately avoiding it."

"Good." Then, much louder: "Here's your muffin, sir. Sorry we forgot it. I will endeavour to make sure this doesn't happen again."

"Oh. Thanks?"

"You're welcome. No-" his voice is quiet again, "don't eat it. It may have been on the floor. He told me not to tell you, but I know how gross that floor is and it didn't feel right. Sorry."

"Don't mention it."

"Look, I shouldn't be talking to you, but his shift finishes in ten minutes. If you could maybe hang out here until he's done, I'd be totally grateful."

"Why? Why do you want to help me?"

"Because he didn't shut up about you for days, and since you haven't called him he's been a shitty roommate. Let him move on. Please."

So he waits. The roommate, Sam according to his badge, makes sure Blaine finishes on time, taking over a customer mid-order. Blaine is obviously about to ignore Kurt completely, just go straight home, but he pauses. Turns. Walks over to Kurt. He stares him down.

"So. What the fuck."

"I'm sorry, Blaine, honestly-"

"No, you're not explaining here. You're buying me a drink somewhere else and we're talking this out properly, because I don't know what the hell I did that made you ignore me completely. That's shitty behaviour, Kurt, and I didn't have you down as a shitty person."

"You're right. You're so right. Where do you want to go?"

Blaine doesn't say a word. Just points to the door.

He leads them to a diner. He must have been working since the crack of dawn; he looks exhausted. He orders French toast, 'on that guy', and Kurt is happy to pay. He seems to have transformed since two weeks ago, smaller and angrier, with dark stripes under his eyes.

Blaine smiles softly at the waitress who brings their drinks over, but the frown returns with a vengeance as soon as she's gone.

"Go."

"I'm sorry."

"I know. But that's not an explanation. Would a text have been so much effort? Thanks for last night, but I actually don't want to see you ever again. L-O-L, Kurt."

"Blaine, it's complicated."

"It didn't seem that complicated the night you want to 'fuck my brains out'. Which you didn't even do, by the way. If I'd known it was only going to be spooning and talking, I never would have come back with you."

They both know that's not true. If he only cared about sex, he wouldn't be demanding an explanation now.

"There's a lot I didn't tell you, Blaine. About me. About my life."

"Like what? You're a serial killer? You have to stay away from me for my own safety? I'm done working for the day, Kurt. I've got all the time in the world, so explain. Unless your band has an impromptu gig."

He takes a deep breath.

"Okay, first thing. I'm not in a band." Oh, god. This is going to sound so fucking stupid.

"What? But I saw you perform."

"We were a band in college for, like, a month. Elliott thought it would be funny to do a number for my birthday."

"So that was improvised? Yeah, right."

"No, really. We're nerds. We do that in our free time. I met Rachel and Santana in glee club in high school. And now Santana is my editor."

"So you do write?"

"Yes. But not songs. More... serious stuff. I kind of have a column in the New York Times."

"Oh, god. You are not Kurt Hummel. I did not ask Kurt Hummel what his favourite animal was at three in the morning."

"I am. And you did. And it was adorable."

"Okay, let's say it _was_ adorable and not moronic, that's even less reason for you not to call me. Why did you lie to me about… everything?"

"Because…" _because I'm hopefully getting a baby, and I didn't want to drag you in or scare you off completely_ – "because that night was a last-ditch attempt at being young and fun. I was having a thirtieth-birthday crisis. I'm not a cool musician guy. I'm a boring adult and I was just… reaching out for something. I shouldn't have got you involved. I'm sorry."

Blaine is very still. He stares at his orange juice.

"You must have thought I was so stupid. Just some dumb kid."

"No, Blaine," he was supposed to explain then get out, get distance between them, move on with the other million things happening in his life right now, but Blaine looks so hurt that he can't help reaching out to take his hand. "Honestly, I'm the idiot. I thought I could do the one-night stand thing, be cool about it, and I couldn't even do that. To tell you the truth, just hanging out with you for the night was the most fun I've had in god knows how long."

"So why didn't you call?" He can tell Blaine feels like he's being annoying, but Kurt wants to do anything he can to take that upset look off his face. "I'm not asking you to marry me or anything. I just thought you would treat me with a little decency. I can handle rejection, okay, but not bad manners."

"It's such a long story, Blaine. There's so much happening in my life right now, I can't commit to anything like that." _And I don't think I could have anything with you without throwing myself in completely._ "I would be such a crappy boyfriend right now _." I don't want to drag you into this and hurt you._ "It wouldn't be fair on you."

Blaine breathes in and out slowly. "Hm."

"I wanted to call you, I really did." _Your number has been next to my bed for two weeks._ "I just didn't know what to say."

"I never said anything about being boyfriends, Kurt."

Kurt frowns.

"No, I guess not."

"We had fun, right?"

Kurt nods. "So much."

"And we've ordered lunch now."

"We have."

"So why don't we eat, discuss our second favourite animals, and then make a second attempt at the hook-up thing?"

Kurt almost spits out his water. "Excuse me?"

Blaine is sitting up straighter and there's mischief in his eyes.

"I think you need to get better at having no-strings sex. And I'm gorgeous; you said so yourself."

"I'm not arguing with that."

The waitress returns to their table with their food. Maybe this is exactly what Kurt needs. Now that he's sitting with Blaine, the idea of cutting all ties with him completely seems terrible. If he's willing to have a short-term, no-commitment fling until Kurt gets that phone call… it could be perfect. It would definitely take his mind off waiting to hear from the agency.

"So? Are you going to freak out and run away, or are you going to come back to my place and screw me like you promised two weeks ago?"

Suddenly Kurt doesn't feel hungry any more.

The waitress smirks when she sees a man throw a fifty on the table and the two of them scamper out without touching their food.

"Oh my god," Kurt rasps, "that was… wow."

"Mmm, I know," Blaine says, kissing Kurt's jaw and nuzzling into his neck. "You're not bad at this one-night stand thing."

"Thanks. Although it's more of a one-brunch stand. Except it's the second time we've met, you hated me about two hours ago and we didn't eat anything."

Blaine smirks. "Now we both know that's just not true. I definitely felt pretty full until about fifteen seconds ago, and it seemed like your last meal earlier from the way you were eating my-"

Kurt snorts and kisses him before he can finish. "I love how shameless you are."

"Why would I be ashamed? I just had incredible, no-strings sex in the middle of the day with one of the best writers in New York. Hey, move a second. It's cold in here." He pulls his quilt over them both and rests his head on Kurt's shoulder. "Much better," he says, wiggling his toes happily and rubbing his legs against Kurt's for warmth.

"And is this typical no-strings behaviour? Cuddling?"

"It is if you can't afford heating. Calm down, old man, it's fine. I'm still casual."

That's exactly what Kurt should want to hear, but it still dampens the glow in his chest. He forces himself to smile. "Good. Now, have you got any actual food? Because if we're going for round two, I'm going to need an hour-long nap and a pretty substantial snack. Possibly even a smoothie."

"Kurt, you're thirty, not seventy. You get fifteen minutes and a banana."

"Deal. Come on, I wanna see your place."

"Oh, you really don't. Sam's – he's my best friend and everything, but he's so gross."

"Then I definitely need to see it. I'm not eating anything if I don't know where it's been."

Blaine raises an eyebrow, ready to make another suggestive comment, but instead he grins and takes Kurt's hand before leading him out of his bedroom. "Now, you have to promise not to judge me. It's all I can afford right now, and like I said, Sam isn't exactly the cleanest-" Kurt kisses him again.

"I'm sure I'll love it. Come on," he gives Blaine's ass a light slap, "I want to see where you live." Blaine pulls a blanket with them, wrapping it around his shoulders. Kurt doesn't really feel the cold, so he just puts an arm around Blaine's waist to help keep him warm. He can't help wanting to wrap him up somehow.

"So, normal things, I guess. Bathroom, Sam's room – probably shouldn't go in there – and the everything else room." It's small but there's a charm to it. Kurt's always had a fondness for student accommodation. There's a certain romance about scraping by, having just enough space to make it home. The couch is obviously second-hand, one of the kitchen cupboards doesn't close properly, and none of the crockery matches, but it's sweet. His eye is drawn to the corner of the room. Blaine notices him looking at it. "Oh, shit. Um, you really weren't supposed to see that-"

Standing upon the easel is a canvas, about half-filled in. It's nothing short of stunning despite its simplicity. It's a figure from behind, lying down: a head of brown hair, a neck and shoulders dusted with freckles, the edge of a sheet covering them. The empty space above the person is still white. Kurt looks at Blaine, who has gone quiet. He's looking at the floor.

"Is this…"

"It's not finished. I don't know what colour I want the rest to be. It still needs work. I might not even keep going with it; it's stupid-"

"Blaine?"

"Yes. It is. I'm sorry, okay, this must be so creepy-" Kurt pulls Blaine into his arms and holds him. Blaine freezes for a second, then buries his face in Kurt's neck.

"I don't- nobody's ever- it's amazing, Blaine. You're amazing."

"Thank you. Sorry though."

Kurt squeezes him in admonition and kisses his cheek.

"You know what? I think you might need more inspiration."

Before Blaine can ask what he means, Kurt tosses the blanket to the floor and throws Blaine over his shoulder and runs back to the bedroom, Blaine's laughter singing in Kurt's ears.


	3. Chapter 3

"Oh, yeah baby, yeah, harder, oh _god_ you're so _big_ , ah-"

Kurt flinches at the feel of Santana's breath on his ear.

"When did you get in here?"

"When did you last write a full coherent sentence?"

Kurt scowls at her. "Do you want something or do I need to file workplace sexual harassment charges?"

She sits on his desk, arms folded. "I'm wondering what the hell is going on with you? Every time I walk past your office you're just staring into space. Have you heard back from the agency?"

Kurt shakes his head. He feels guilty, but he isn't sure why. He's never been good at lying to Santana.

"It's not about that."

"Is it something else? Are you sick?"

"Kind of."

Her eyes widen.

"It's a boy!" He feels his face heat up. How predictable. "Not the guy from your birthday? Elliott told me you ran into him last Tuesday - the day you were suspiciously late and then failed to come in at all. Kurt, have you been skipping work for sex?"

"I'm sorry, I know it's unprof-"

The rest of his apology is muffled when she pulls him close, burying his face in her chest.

"My son. This is the proudest day of my life. I hope you get to feel this proud of your kid, whenever you get it."

"What a beautiful sentiment."

"So, how was it? What was he like? Did he cry? Did you cry? Did you drown that tiny man in your pixie tears?"

He pauses. Part of him wants to keep the whole thing private. But the other part…

"He's incredible, Tana. He's an artist. He showed me his paintings and they're so good, and he's so pretty and funny and the sex, oh _god,_ best sex of my life. No question."

She looks like she might cry.

"I think I might cry. So how did you explain your situation to him?"

"What situation?"

"Well, you may not remember, but a few weeks ago you sent off this form. Pretty long, lots of ticking boxes, something about adopting a baby?"

"Oh. Why would I tell him that?"

She stares at him. "I just think telling him about your triplets in the middle of your wedding ceremony would be weird. Why wouldn't you tell him? Don't you want to see him again?"

"Of course I do. But the whole adoption process can take years. I've only just told him I'm not really in a successful band. Why tell him about something that probably won't even happen until long after he gets bored of me?"

"Because this is the most excited I've seen you about a guy since… ever."

"So I'm going to make the most of him until I get some kind of baby news. I can't suddenly live like a nun just because I'm waiting for a phone call. Since when are you against a little no-strings fun?"

"Since you're incapable of having it. Not everybody's cut out for that, Kurt, and you are definitely not. At all. You love musicals, serenades, romance, babies. You're already smitten with this guy. Tell him the truth. It's only fair."

"You know, we should start a new advice column. Dear Santana, my boyfriend says if I don't have sex with him his junk will fall off. Should I trust him?"

"Dear confused, fourteen, Idaho, tell me your boyfriend's address and I'll chop it off to save you the trouble. Oh, look! Another letter." She mimes opening an envelope. "Dear Santana, I'm trying to be something I'm not so I can keep having sex with a cute boy, even though I know it can't last forever because some knocked up teenager is definitely going to give me her baby any second now. What should I do? Deluded, thirty, Manhattan."

"Dear Deluded, sounds like you've got a pretty sweet set up. Keep up the good work. Lots of love, Aunty Tana."

"Okay, that does have a ring to it. Look, you can do what you want. Just be careful with his sensitive artistic little heart. And if you're going to keep seeing him, we will all require a formal introduction."

He grins, she pinches his cheek, and he is alone in his office again. He can handle this.

He arrives back at his apartment, hangs up his coat, and is about to text Blaine and invite him over when he sees an envelope on the doormat.

 ** _Dear Mr Hummel,_**

 ** _I am writing to inform you that we have received your application to qualify for adoption, and we will begin processing your information as soon as possible. I would like to take this opportunity to thank you for taking this step to give a home to one of the many children in New York City who so desperately need it._**

He leans back against the door, holding the letter to his chest. This is what he's wanted to do since he can remember, since his own family was blown to pieces twice. He's so happy he can barely contain it. But at the same time, there's a heaviness settling low in his stomach when he pictures the boy he's already besotted with after so few meetings, the boy who asked what his favourite animal was. The boy who painted him.

He feels a buzz in his pocket.

 ** _Blaine: Busy? Would you like to be? X_**

What the fuck is he doing?

Kurt should have broken it off by now.

Kurt has definitely not broken anything off.

Except maybe his penis pretty soon if they don't at least slow things down.

 **March**

Blaine bites his knuckles as Kurt swallows around him. They know it's silly to do this while Sam's home when Kurt has an entire house that they could have to themselves, but they enjoy the challenge. It makes Blaine a little more giggly after he comes, and it's so adorable Kurt can't resist. Blaine asks Kurt if he's seen that new Clooney film, and explains that Sam hates any non-superhero movie so he doesn't have anybody else close by to go with. Kurt says he would love to go, on the condition that they can sit at the back and that he can give Blaine a handjob at the very least. Blaine smirks and kisses him, then throws on a sweater and runs to get them both hot chocolate so they can drink it in bed while they talk. Sam is too busy on his X-box to notice a pants-less Blaine come into the living room. Their new challenge: how loud can they get away with being before Sam notices he's not alone in the apartment?

 **April**

Blaine brings Kurt daffodils. Kurt's chest fills with butterflies. He drags Blaine inside and they're both naked in record time. Blaine almost spots a letter from the agency inviting Kurt to a workshop for prospective parents. Kurt distracts him by telling him he's already been prepping himself for half an hour, which is true, and it works wonderfully. They're loud and wild, and Kurt comes with his fingers whitening as they grip the headboard, Blaine's hand stroking him as he thrusts into him. They order pizza at 2am and eat it whilst cackling at New Girl in bed.

 **May**

They finally hang out at the park for the day with Kurt's friends. Blaine charms them all, and that in turn charms Kurt all over again. They're not an easy crowd to please, but if anyone can do it, it's Blaine. Even if they didn't like him, they wouldn't be able to argue with the adoring looks they're giving each other. They stay long after the others go home, sipping champagne from plastic flutes and feeding each other grapes. They start making out, a little drunk, on the grass, and decide to run back to Kurt's house before they get arrested for public indecency. They attempt some ambitious positions and almost do some permanent damage. They survive. They shower together and wash each other's hair. They fall asleep tangled together, hair sticking out messily by the morning. For once, Kurt doesn't care.

The next morning, he gets a phone call asking if he's available for a home visit on Thursday. He panics and tells Blaine he needs to clean the house and can't do that if he's distracted. Blaine admits with a smile that he is very distracting, but looks hurt nonetheless. Kurt can't dwell on it right now.

 **June**

They fight. Kurt won't tell Blaine why he's stressed, and he still won't call Blaine his boyfriend, and Blaine doesn't understand what the problem is. Blaine is close to storming out, but Kurt reaches into the very back of a cupboard in the kitchen and pulls out a box wrapped in silver paper. It's full of paints – the expensive ones he knows Blaine wants but can't afford. His birthday isn't for a couple of weeks, but he's had them ready to give to him since last month. Blaine cries, and Kurt joins him, and Blaine tells him he can live without a label, because they both know how they feel. Kurt apologises for everything being so complicated, and asks Blaine why he doesn't just run off with some other twenty-one-year-old. Blaine just smiles and kisses him. The butterflies come back to Kurt's chest.

 **July**

Kurt goes to an event set up by the adoption agency. He gets to go to a foster home and meet a lot of different kids, all with such different backgrounds, all so sweet. He speaks to a few for a while, and they're lovely, but he knows he was right to tick the infant box on his application. Some of these kids are so damaged, and a lot of the other potential parents are just brilliant with the teenagers. A lot of them have siblings and can't be separated. Some have intensely traumatic histories. They are almost all having counselling, and Kurt feels more than a little out of his depth. As soon as he gets home he researches long term effects of childhood trauma; he reads horrific articles about adoptions that don't take, that often result in the children being far more hurt by the rejection than they were by their abusive biological birth parents. He snaps out of this worry-spiral when he gets a text from Blaine, containing a single yellow heart. He goes to his apartment immediately and just holds him for a while. Blaine is used to these unexplained sad spells, and strokes Kurt's hair and tells him it's going to be fine. He's not going anywhere.

 **August**

 ** _Mr. Hummel, we are delighted to inform you that your background checks have all been cleared successfully, and your references are excellent. We have found that you meet the necessary requirement to be an adoptive parent in the state of New York._**

He celebrates with his best friends and Blaine and Sam at Elliott's bar, even though Blaine and Sam don't actually know it's a celebration. He drinks enough to likely disqualify him from adopting, and he and Blaine make out clumsily against a wall until they're both hard and gasping into each other's mouths. They race home and they're quickly on the edge. Kurt only has to stroke Blaine a couple of times before he's spilling over his fist, and the face he makes is enough to make Kurt follow suit.

He tells Blaine that he loves him.

Kurt forgets this by the morning.

Blaine doesn't.

The next day Blaine goes out to get Kurt fresh coffee and pastries, and as much as he loves having sex with Blaine, he feels happiest just spending the day talking to him, listening to music, reading the paper, writing while Blaine paints. It doesn't hurt that Blaine really likes painting naked, though.

 **September**

The agency sets up a meeting between Kurt and a pregnant girl. It goes unbelievably well. The girl is sweet, kind, and she genuinely seems to like Kurt. Her mother is a little iffy about him, but he thinks he wins her over. All he can do now is wait. He goes to Blaine's afterwards, and they don't have a dining table but he's set up the coffee table with flowers and candles and a gorgeous dinner. The tension leaves Kurt's body so quickly he almost cries. They sit on cushions and eat, and it's the closest he's ever come to telling Blaine everything.

"Are you happy with this? Us?"

Blaine swallows.

"Of course I am. You're rich."

Kurt laughs a little, but stays serious: "Really, though? Just the way things are right now? You know… casual. You're not waiting for, like, commitment or anything."

"Are you seriously asking me that now?" It feels like Blaine is about to fight for him. To say he wants more, he really wants to be with Kurt and commit and… but he's twenty-two. Of course he won't.

"It's fine. You don't have to- I mean. I can't do more than this anyway. Not long term. It's-"

"Complicated. I know. I'm fine with things the way they are now. I thought everything about this set-up just screamed casual."

"Blaine?"

"No, really. I'm super chill. I love being an artist who's too busy being a fucking barista to make any decent art, and I love spending six months with a guy who is too ashamed or busy or _complicated_ to call me his boyfriend even though we see each other almost every day and have keys to each other's homes. I love being in the last year of my degree with basically nothing to show for it. After over three years in the _best_ city in the world. It's awesome being in a tiny apartment with my idiot friend and, of course, our third roommate, the ponytail. My life is perfect."

Kurt freezes. He's been so wrapped up in adoption stuff that he had no idea Blaine was so miserable. He never seems unhappy. He's always pure sunshine. Kurt takes Blaine's hand. "I didn't- you never said…"

"Shit," he rubs his hand over his face, "I'm sorry. I didn't want to unload it all on you. This was supposed to be nice."

Kurt crawls around the table to sit next to Blaine and pull him close. "This is lovely. But it's okay if you don't always feel lovely, right?" Blaine looks at the food on his plate, pushes it around with his fork, but Kurt ducks down to catch his eye. "Seriously. I throw all kind of emotions at you constantly. Two-way street, Blaine. Are you really that unhappy?"

They both want the same response to come out of Blaine's mouth:

 _Yes, Kurt, I'm unhappy. I want a commitment. I want more than this._

"It's- it's just work and school. I'm overwhelmed. It's not about you."

Kurt squeezes his hand.

"I am so not ashamed of you, Blaine. Promise me you know that."

Blaine nods and sniffs.

"I do."

They feed each other and talk everything through, all of Blaine's frustrations and disappointments about school, his irritations with Sam and their manager, who Blaine suspects are hooking up, which is costing Blaine a lot of early morning shifts. He insists that he's fine with them the way they are. He's only twenty-two, and he's not in any hurry to settle down. Kurt wishes vehemently that Blaine was aching to settle down as soon as possible, with Kurt and a baby. Determined not to be selfish, he stupidly believes Blaine when he says he's happy keeping things casual. They fall asleep in front of the couch, Blaine nestled against Kurt's chest, blanket wrapped around them both. They're too exhausted to be woken up, even by Sam crashing into the room at 3am. He lets out a small 'aww' when he sees them and takes a photo to show Blaine later, before grabbing a pop tart and going to his room.

 **October**

Kurt gets a phone call. The girl he met liked him. She wants to give him her baby. His breath catches in his throat when the words reach his ear. He could pass out or cry or scream, but all he wants to do is tell Blaine. He remembers with a heavy heart that telling Blaine means it's over. She's only twelve weeks gone, meaning he has about six months to get ready, and the confession to Blaine is the scariest part of that by miles. For today, he puts it off by calling Rachel and screaming at her down the phone. He decides that just for this week, he won't tell Blaine. Or just for this month. He wants to stay in this perfect bubble a while longer.

 **November**

Blaine asks why he can smell paint in Kurt's house. Kurt laughs it off, says the fumes are going to his head and that he is truly becoming a tortured genius. He's sure Blaine must be wondering by now why there's one room in Kurt's house that he's never seen, but he never really pushes it. He assumes it's just a junk room. Today, Blaine is grinning a dopey grin like he's hiding something. The second Kurt starts to ask what's going on, Blaine starts babbling about the painting, the painting he did of Kurt after they first met. Kurt already knows it's finished – it's the background on his phone, the empty space now filled with a blaze of reds and oranges fading into a starry sky, and Kurt almost cries every time he looks at it – but now it's going to be in a gallery. In a real show. And someone could buy it and he could be a real painter with actual paintings being sold for real money. And Kurt can't bring himself to make that smile go away. He lifts Blaine up and spins him around and kisses him a dozen times. They get dressed up and go dancing, and they come home and make love for hours, quietly, gently, until they are both beaming at each other and shivering in the sliver of moonlight that drifts into the room.

Kurt outbids a lot of other people for the painting. It means far too much to him to let anyone else have it. He frames it and puts it in his study.


	4. Chapter 4

December

He's in the nursery when he gets the phone call. He'd seen the cutest stuffed giraffe and he just couldn't resist, and he's about to put it in the baby's room with the other things he's already bought: the empty frame waiting for a picture; the neatly folded blankets and onesies waiting for someone to be wrapped around. When he's in there, he can't bring himself to think about Blaine and the heartbreak he knows is coming. All he can feel is excitement. Until his phone vibrates in his pocket.

He thinks he's used to speaking to people from the agency, the standard way they start conversations, the jargon they have to use, but it's different this time. His insides turn cold as soon as he hears the sympathy in her voice and has to steady himself on the arm of the rocking chair, the giraffe still hanging between his fingers.

"I'm so sorry, Mr Hummel. There was nothing anybody could have done. It's just one of those things. But this doesn't mean it's over; there will be other children. We can refer you to a counsellor if you need it."

His throat feels tight, as if someone is choking him. He can't listen any more. He forces out a 'thanks for letting me know' and falls into the seat. His breaths come fast and heavy, and he grips the giraffe tightly in his shaking hand. He can't stay here. In this room, this house; it suddenly feels suffocating.

There's only one thought coming through clearly in the swirling mess in his head.

He needs Blaine.

Blaine jumps a mile when he hears banging on the door. He wasn't expecting anyone. He opens the door to Kurt, his eyes and cheeks red, the obvious tracks of tears running down to his chin. "Kurt, what-" he's about to ask what's happened, but as soon as Kurt looks up to see him he starts crying. He knows talking won't help now. He pulls Kurt close, who leans into him, sobs wracking his frame. "It's okay. I'm here. I've got you."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know where else to go. I just- I needed you, Blaine." His voice is muffled by Blaine's sweater, but Blaine can just about understand him.

"What do you need? What can I do?"

"I don't know. I had to get out."

Blaine strokes Kurt's cheek. "Okay. Give me ten seconds." He tucks a couple of blankets and cushions under his arm and takes Kurt's hand, and leads him out of the apartment and up the stairs. They keep going up, and just walking up the stairs and getting his heart pumping feels like some of the pressure is leaving his body. He knows he must be crushing Blaine's hand, but Blaine doesn't mention it. He opens the door at the top of the stairs, and the freezing cold air on Kurt's face is somehow just what he needs. It smells sweeter than normal New York air, as if it's cleaner up here than it is on the ground. The wind is stronger high up with nothing to block it, and the sharpness of it takes away that feeling of being stuck, like something has been sitting inside him since the phone call, stagnant, festering, and now it's being blown away.

The one thing that isn't going away, the one thing he desperately needs to hold onto, is Blaine's hand in his, anchoring him, stopping him from wanting to scream. Just looking at him settles Kurt's heart, and even though he's just standing, helpless, looking up at Kurt as if waiting for instructions on how to make it all better, just his being there is all Kurt can ask for. He hugs him tight, and Blaine's arms around him are so strong and steady that he finally feels safe enough to sink against him. They end up sitting on the concrete, Blaine wrapping them up in blankets and rocking Kurt, telling him over and over that it's okay.

Kurt knows he doesn't have to say anything. Blaine understands by now that Kurt just gets overwhelmed sometimes, and he knows asking questions makes it worse. If Kurt wants to tell him what's wrong, he will, but until then Blaine just wants to do all he can to help. He strokes his hair, his back, presses kisses to his hands and they sit quietly, watching the city as the sky darkens and the buildings light up. Blaine texts Sam and asks him to bring up reinforcements of pillows, blankets, scarves, gloves, food. Kurt can't eat anything, but he takes a few sips from the flask of hot chocolate. By the time it's dark above them and the city beneath them is glowing, he still looks lost, he's still quiet, but he's stopped shaking. Blaine hates that something could have hurt him like this, but he loves being the one Kurt came to, the one Kurt needed.

Kurt shifts a little from where he's nestled into Blaine's side so he can look up at him. They've been there god knows how long, just sitting, Blaine's arms around Kurt, not even talking. Blaine hasn't asked what's wrong because he knows Kurt won't tell him. Blaine has never done anything to make Kurt feel uncomfortable or to push him past the limitations that he's set. And right here, in this moment, the limitations seem so pointless.

It's not until today that he's really understood that the baby thing might never happen. He might never get to be a dad. It's been endless work, stress, fear that he won't be good enough or that it will all come crashing down, and now it has. The baby he was so anxious to see, to hold, to love, is gone. It could be years before someone else picks him, if they do at all. The one source of constant happiness and calm for the last ten months has been Blaine. And they both know, they've known for months without saying it, that it's gone so far beyond casual. Blaine never makes him feel inadequate. Blaine asks so little of him, and sometimes he feels like he gives nothing back.

Kurt might never be a parent. But he's starting to think that if he could be with Blaine, and really be the man he deserves, that it would be enough. More than enough – it would make him happier than he used to think possible.

Blaine notices Kurt staring at him; he smiles a little and gives his waist a squeeze. Kurt takes Blaine's hand and kisses him.

"What was that for?"

"For tonight. For being you. Thank you."

Blaine pauses, looking afraid to say the wrong thing, but he swallows and goes for it anyway. It sounds practised, like he's been building up to it for hours. Kurt realises he probably has for months.

"You don't have to tell me what's happened. I know you can't always tell me everything. But whatever it is, now or any other time, you're not going to scare me off. I know there's a lot you don't tell me, Kurt. I try really hard to respect your boundaries and everything, because honestly, if it's just this 50% of you or none at all, I know what I'd choose. But I can't keep – you have to know that you can let me in. I know I'm young, and maybe I don't have the same things to worry about that you do, but it's really scary, okay? When you get so sad and I don't know how to help. I don't know what it is that's so complicated or that hurts you so much, but I can take it. If this is what you need right now, just sitting on my roof and not talking about it, then I'll hold you through it and I'll do whatever I can, but if you change your mind it's okay. I'm not going anywhere. And I know we don't say it because… well, I don't know why we don't say it, but I love you. And I don't care if we don't have a label for this, because I'm all in, and I love you, and I think you love me too. You could've called anybody tonight, but you called me. Because you know this is something important."

He stops. He looks a little scared, and why wouldn't he? Every time they've really talked about their relationship, Kurt's always downplayed it, undermined it, pretended it's casual. But he's basically been lying since the beginning, to both himself and Blaine. He doesn't want to keep lying or pushing him away. The idea of losing Blaine is so much more painful than anything else he's been through today.

"I'm sorry."

"No-"

"My turn. I'm sorry. I know I keep distancing myself. I think I'd kind of given up on this ever happening and then there you were, in my bed, talking about manatees, and I – it scared me. I'm so scared of how much I love you." Blaine tries to hide the sigh of relief that escapes him. "I do, Blaine," he sniffs, "so much. My- my friend had a miscarriage today. This morning there was a baby and now there isn't, and I keep thinking how scared she must have been, and lost, and it just seems so unfair."

"Kurt, I'm so sorry. That's awful; that poor girl. Is she okay?"

Kurt pauses.

"She will be. But Blaine, you're the only one I wanted to call. You're always the one I want to talk to first."

"You too."

"Look, I know this is really late, and it's been a weird day, but-" he shuffles a little so he can really look at Blaine, "would you please let me your boyfriend?" Blaine smiles, this near-explosive smile that he's trying to hold back as if he's worried Kurt could get spooked, and he surges forward and kisses him. They flatten out on the cement, but Kurt knows Blaine isn't trying to start anything. He knows every way Blaine kisses, and this one is pure excitement. "Is that a yes?"

Blaine giggles. "It's a… we-kind-of-already-are, but also a definite yes. Please."

Kurt pulls him close and breathes him in and wraps his arms around him. "God, you're freezing."

"I know. Don't care."

"Well, I care. I'm not giving my boyfriend hypothermia."

"Your boyfriend can take it."

The day's heartbreak fades. He hasn't felt this elated since he got the call telling him he'd been picked. He smiles at Blaine and rubs his hands together to try and warm them up. "Okay, how about we go back to my place?"

"Kurt, it's midnight."

"Yes, but you don't have a bathtub. I do. Best way to get warm. Science."

Blaine smirks. "Best boyfriend ever. Are you sure you're gonna be okay?"

Kurt nods. "Yes. I am." He means it.

By 1am, they're in Kurt's bathtub, Blaine is lying between Kurt's legs, Kurt's arms wrapped around him, and he cranes his neck so he can kiss his boyfriend. Their toes wiggle in the water, and it makes them both giggle, because it's late and they're sleepy and the only noises are their whispers and little splashes. Maybe Kurt will tell Blaine everything. Maybe he'll never have to. He feels like he's allowed to bask in this moment of certainty, this ridiculous but perfect moment, before the rest of the world reappears tomorrow.


	5. Chapter 5

Kurt desperately wants to spend Christmas with Blaine, but he's promised to go and spend the holiday with his family back in Ohio. Kurt's tempted to do the same, go see his dad and Carole and maybe sneak off to see Blaine, like they're teenagers scared of getting caught, but he's missed so much work lately he really needs to catch up. He has to check the holiday pieces from his whole team and post them on the website and finalise one or two supplement items. He writes a feature about Christmas, how he feels like he should be cynical about it by now, but he just can't help loving it all: the pageantry; the songs; the food. He loved it when he was tiny, and he's had some difficult ones – the first without his mother, the first without Finn, but now it's the time of year when he really feels like the ones he's lost are back with him. Because however clichéd it is, it's the time for family.

 _And even though this year I can't be with the ones I love, because I'm here writing this article, I know they're out there somewhere, singing carols, dancing terribly, and drinking far too much egg nog. So bring on the overeating and the ghastly sweaters (because even I can give fashion one night off), and let's all embrace this season with open arms. Think of me, in my empty house, pining for my boyfriend who is thousands of miles away._

He checks it thoroughly and posts it on the website, not wanting to bother Santana who has vowed to be buried between Dani's thighs by now.

He pulls his phone out to call Blaine, when he sees that it's already ringing.

Why would their offices even be open on Christmas Eve?

"Mr Hummel, I'm so glad I caught you! How are the holidays treating you?"

"Oh, um, fine. Can I help you with something?"

"Well, I was hoping it would be the other way around. You've been chosen by a young woman in Manhattan. She's already thirty weeks, so there wouldn't be a lot of time to prepare, but she's very healthy and you're the first potential adoptive parent she's liked."

"Me? Now? What?"

"Well, she loved your determination. She thought it was truly admirable that you were doing this by yourself. We'd love to set up a meeting as soon as possible." He almost drops the phone. His heart is in his throat. "Mr Hummel?"

"Yes! Um, yes, that would be fantastic. Please."

He swears he can hear her laughing at him a little down the phone. They arrange a meeting for the twenty-seventh. In three days. Before Blaine gets home.

It's hardly the kind of thing he can say over the phone. He'll wait until he's met the mother, and Blaine's home, and he can explain properly. It's not like there's any guarantee anyway. She might not even like him.

She definitely likes him.

"I like you, Kurt."

See?

Kurt grins.

"I like you too."

He keeps having to remind himself not to look at the bump, that she's a fascinating person and not just a baby vessel.

But damn, it's a huge bump.

"So how are you feeling? Because I feel really good about this. You're the best person I've met during this whole process."

Kurt's hands won't stop shaking. It's happening. He knows he would be an idiot to get his hopes up because anything could change, but Susie is brilliant. She's a director, and she's open about the fact that she's never been the maternal type, and she wouldn't have the time to dedicate to motherhood, but she knew she would be able to find someone to give the baby a real home. She knows she doesn't want to be a mother, but she also knows that an abortion just wasn't for her. She seems so sure of everything, and she won't stop smiling at Kurt. "You're allowed to look at the bump, dude. It's your kid in there, you know."

Oh, God. She said it.

"Are you allowed to say that? I mean, don't you have to let me know through the agency?"

She shrugs. "My uterus. My rules. If you're in, I'm in."

Kurt nods as he tries to swallow. "I'm in. I'm so in."

"So… do we shake hands? High-five? I've never done this before."

"Would a hug be too forward?"

"Asking for a baby would be forward, but you're already doing that. Come here."

He gives her a hand as she heaves herself to her feet and she throws her arms around him. He feels a nudge against his hip and he flinches. He looks – no, he gawps at her, eyes wide, and she nods. "Yep. That was a kick. She must know you're somebody important."

"She?"

"Oh, crap, did I not say that? Wait-" she grabs her bag and rifles through it until she pulls out a little black and white picture. "There she is. That blobby chick. I hear they get much cuter later."

All Kurt can do is stare. His heart wants to hammer right through his ribcage.

"That's- she's amazing. Can I?"

"Sure, keep it. Your first family portrait."

Kurt wants to speak, to tell her how grateful he is, but his body has decided to grind to a halt. He almost forgets to breathe. This is a picture of his daughter. The bump that just kicked him is _his daughter_.

He wants to go back in time and find the eight-year-old Kurt that can't stop crying, the nineteen-year-old Kurt that wants his brother back and wishes his family would stop falling apart, and tell him it's all going to be okay. He's going to have his very own family one day, and it's going to be the best feeling in the world. But he remembers the other person involved in his family. The one who doesn't even know about it yet.

"Okay, I need to tell you something."

She eyes him suspiciously.

"You haven't changed your mind, have you? I might not have time to find somebody else-"

"No! God, no. It's just – the woman from the agency told me you really liked that I was adopting by myself."

She nods. "… Yeah. It showed how much you wanted a kid, that you were willing to do it alone."

They sit down again, the excitement toned down a little but not at all squashed.

"Well. Just. That might not be the case now."

"Oh? Did you meet someone?"

Kurt nods.

"Yes. We've actually been together for almost a year, but now – he might be involved. With me and the baby. Long term."

"Well, can I meet him? Why didn't he come today?"

He doesn't want to say it. Because it's easily the most ridiculous sentence he has ever uttered.

"Look, could you reserve judgement until I've explained in full?"

"I can try. Go."

"Okay. Well, he doesn't know about the adoption thing. Like, any of it. He doesn't even know I ever applied." She's trying not to show it, but she looks decidedly unimpressed. "I know, okay, I know how dumb that is. I was going to keep it super casual with him until I got baby news, and I was just going to break up with him when this happened. But then there was a girl who picked me, and she lost the baby, and it was so awful but Blaine was there, and he was so kind even though he had no idea what was happening, and I realised I'd totally fallen for him," - this speech is not coming out at all how he'd rehearsed it – "And I thought it would be years before I got picked again. But I didn't want to tell him and give him a heart attack until I knew for sure. In my defence, this has happened really quickly."

She's frowning, more like she's trying to make up her mind than like she's changed it completely.

"Do you love him?"

"Yes." He doesn't miss a beat.

"And does he want kids? I mean, do you think he'll want it?"

"I honestly don't know. At first I thought he wanted to keep it cool, no commitment, but it turned out we were both completely in love with each other, and we'd just never said it because we were both kind of scared, but now we're really boyfriends and we practically live together. It's just that he's only twenty-two, and I've got to admit I'm pretty terrified he's going to run a mile-" He realises he's probably said more than she wanted to know. "But if he doesn't want the baby, it's over. I promise she is my priority." He still feels a thrill saying 'she' – just knowing the tiniest thing about her makes everything seem so much more real, which only makes him more certain that this is what he wants. He wants to be a father, whether Blaine is there or not. But god, he'll be a lot happier if he is.

"Okay, pal, this isn't a job interview. You've already convinced me with all the tears." Kurt hadn't even noticed he was crying; he wipes his cheeks. "I know you're the right guy. But I'm a little worried about your judgement."

"What?"

"You're in love with a guy and you haven't even told him that you want babies. And that you're taking steps to make it happen. I mean, I try not to judge, but. Shit. That's so dumb."

"I know."

"And do you think you being single is the only reason I wanted you?"

"Sorry?"

She rolls her eyes.

"Kurt, I picked you because I thought you'd be a good father to this baby. You're passionate and creative and kind. I could tell from your letter that you were the one. Did you really think I would object to her having two dads instead of one?"

Kurt looks at his knees.

"I'm an idiot."

She ruffles his hair.

"You're my kind of idiot. A fool in love. It happens to the best of us. What's he like? Is he as nice as you?"

"Nicer. Much nicer. He's an artist."

"Ooh, I like that. Is he good?"

"Incredible."

"Is he hot?"

"You have no idea."

She grins.

"Well, you need to speak to him, obviously. That's all on you. And you've only got two months to do it. Got it?"

"Yes."

"Because then you'll have a baby."

"Apparently so."

"And it'll be a lot harder to explain."

"It will."

She takes his hand in hers. "She's all yours, Kurt. You officially have dibs. Just- tell your boyfriend. Please."

He nods. "Thank you so much."

"Back atcha."

Blaine stays at his own apartment the first night he comes back. Kurt calls him and says they need to talk about stuff, but he says he's going to a bachelor party. Kurt says it's fine, it can wait a day, no problem, and tells him to have a good time. He asks if it's anyone he knows.

"Oh, just… an old friend. That reminds me, the wedding's next weekend. Do you want to be my plus one? Pretty please? The groom is threatening to set me up with the bride's cousin if he doesn't meet my imaginary boyfriend soon."

Kurt smiles. "Sounds great. I bet I can hook us up with something disgustingly expensive and fashionable to wear. God bless my friends in high places for getting me free crap."

"Kurt, we both know you don't think it's crap. Don't even try it."

"Fair. But it's still free and you'll look super handsome in it."

"And we can stay in a hotel and get naked in our room and I'll look even handsomer."

"Ooh, deal."

"Are you sure you don't need to talk about that thing now? I could come over if you want."

"No, don't worry about it. Go get drunk and act like you're into the naked ladies."

"I'll try. Love you."

Kurt smiles.

"Love you too."

Tomorrow. He'll tell him tomorrow.

It's 4am. There's a scrabbling noise coming from downstairs.

Drunk Blaine cannot deal with keys. Or much else.

Kurt can't even bring himself to be annoyed, because it's sweet that this is the address he automatically comes back to when he doesn't really know what he's doing. And he gets really clingy and snuggly when he's like this. Drunk Blaine has got to be one of his top five Blaines.

His face lights up the second he sees Kurt's face.

"Kurt!"

He flings himself at Kurt as soon as he opens the door, almost sending them both crashing to the floor. Kurt manages to steady them, and before he can even stand up straight, Blaine's arms are wound tightly around his torso and he's nuzzling against Kurt's chest.

"Hey, you."

"Mm, you smell so yummy. Love you."

"I love you too. Do you need water?"

"Nope. Need you. Yum boyfriend is all I need."

Kurt indulges him for a minute, just standing there stroking his back and swaying them both gently.

"Good night?"

"Mm. Yeah. Talked about love."

"No strippers?"

"Oh, lots of strippers. But he just felt bad and started crying and I sat with him outside and we talked about love. He loves her so much. But not as much as I love you. I love you the most."

"I think I might love you more."

Blaine looks up, blinking very slowly and deliberately to show that he is very serious.

"No. This isn't drunk. This is love, Kurt. _Love_."

Kurt tries to match his serious expression, then kisses his forehead. "I know."

"I can't wait for us to be together forever, Kurt. We're going to get married and have lots of babies and live happily ever after."

"Excuse me?"

"Yes, please. Water time."

"No, the other thing. Babies? Do you think about that?"

Blaine stares at him as if he's a total moron.

"Duh. I _love_ you, stupid, that's what I'm _telling_ you. Kurt, can you bring me water and cuddle me? And can we maybe do some sexy stuff?"

Kurt has to force himself back into action. "Water and cuddles first. Then we'll see if you stay awake long enough for any sexy stuff."

He doesn't. He falls asleep clutching at Kurt as if his life depends on it, and stays that way until a few hours later, when he has to run to the bathroom. He comes back to bed looking disgusted with himself.

"Oh, god."

"Good morning, darling."

"Oh, god. Kurt, I'm dying." He nuzzles against Kurt's chest. "This is the end. Tell Cooper I can't go to the wedding. Because I'm dead."

"I know. Drink this."

"Will I throw up?"

"You might. That's why there is a large saucepan next to you. You'll feel better."

Blaine glugs the water eagerly, feeling it seeping right into his brain, healing him. His stomach does a tiny lurch, and he grabs blindly at Kurt's hand, but it calms down again. The only thing he heaves is a sigh of relief.

"Can bacon happen? I think bacon needs to happen."

Kurt hands him a bacon sandwich. "Your wish is my command, my love."

"You're an angel. Have I ever told you that? Yes, I have, I know I have, but I've never meant it quite this much before. You're perfect."

Kurt kisses Blaine's hair as he takes a huge bite of the sandwich.

"So Cooper's the groom's name, huh? How do you two know each other?"

"Oh, um. Family friend. Known him for years. You'll love him."

"I'm sure I will. So, Blaine, you said a lot of stuff last night before you dozed off."

Something dawns in Blaine's eyes: the strain of remembering, followed by realisation, then horror.

"Oh, shit. Kurt, I'm sorry-"

"No, honey, it was fine. More than fine, actually."

"What?"

"Blaine, I want all that stuff too, okay? Getting married, kids, all of it… actually, as you brought up-"

Blaine's face suddenly twists into a very different shape. He sucks in a deep breath and groans.

"Kurt?"

"Oh god, please go."

Blaine runs to the bathroom and Kurt winces at the sound of at least half a bottle of tequila emptying into the toilet.

He goes into the bathroom to sit on the floor and stroke Blaine's hair out of his face. "We can talk about this tomorrow. When your face is less green and your forehead is less sweaty."

Blaine squeezes his hand and his voice echoes against the porcelain. "Still love me?"

"I promise."

He will definitely tell him tomorrow.

Kurt's anxiety levels soar past their previous record highs. After Blaine leaves his apartment on Sunday afternoon, the don't see each other all week.

"I'm so sorry, babe," his voice still so gentle even on the phone, "I have this deadline and I want to get everything done before we go upstate on Friday. I really can't get distracted, and there's no way to avoid that if I'm with you."

The boy's not wrong. Kurt looks at the sonogram picture in his hand and takes a deep breath. "Okay. It's fine. Just focus on that and we'll have the weekend together, wearing beautiful suits and sipping champagne."

"God, you're the best. Love you."

"Love you too."

He can't tell him on the way to the hotel. They get the subway and they're laden with their suits and luggage and it doesn't feel right.

He can't tell them when they're just unpacking and Blaine's practising his best man speech. He's not used to public speaking, and he's so nervous, it wouldn't be fair.

They go for dinner in the hotel restaurant (too public), and then back to their room (too sleepy).

Kurt's practised his 'I'm having a baby' speech more than Blaine's practised his wedding toast. They dress up and they look divine, Kurt perfectly coordinated with Blaine's outfit and making it a little less garish. This Cooper seems fairly over-the-top from what Kurt's heard, but he's sure he's perfectly lovely.

"You look so handsome, Blaine."

Kurt has told him this a thousand times, but it still makes him smile and blush. "Thank you. You scrub up pretty nicely too."

"You're going to be fine. I promise."

"If I pass out, will you catch me?"

"Absolutely. I'll have a trampoline on standby. Bounce you right back up. No one will notice."

"I don't see a single flaw in this plan." He offers Kurt his elbow. "Sir, would you do me the honour of accompanying me downstairs?"

This family is endearingly untraditional. The bride and groom already have two little boys, who clearly adore Blaine. They even call him 'Uncle Blaine', which makes Kurt's heart skip a beat. He and the other groomsmen take their places, and the groom looks ecstatic as he waits.

There's a girl sitting with Kurt, trying and failing to whisper to him.

"So, how do you know them? I'm Cooper's cousin."

"I'm dating the best man."

Her eyes widen.

"You're Kurt?"

He frowns.

"Yes… how did you-"

"Oh, sweetie, everyone's heard all about you. We're so excited to meet you!"

Weird. This guy's family seems awfully invested in Cooper's friend's love life. He tries not to think about it as the music starts up and the bride makes her entrance. And what an entrance it is.

The dress lights up – just some tasteful, baby pink LEDs, of course, or it would be tacky. It's not until she gets closer, accompanied by a few whoops and the opening bars of 'Pound the Alarm' played by a string quartet, that Kurt notices something moving on the dress.

Butterflies.

Animatronic butterflies.

He spots one of the bridesmaids holding something bright red behind her flowers, and he realises it's a fire extinguisher, presumably in case the dress spontaneously combusts. Kurt silently wonders if there were some special insurance forms to fill out for this.

The girl next to him is already sniffing, so Kurt gives her a tissue. She dabs gratefully at her eyes, careful not to dislodge her false lashes.

The bride looks... spectacular. Her hair is so huge Kurt doubts he could reach the top of it. Her lips are bright fuchsia. Her skin is completely orange. A younger Kurt would have judged the entire display, but something must have softened him, because all that seems to matter is how happy she looks, and how excited Cooper is to start the ceremony, and how pretty Blaine looks while he smiles at them. They make eye contact for a moment, and even though they haven't spoken about the drunker confession, they both think the same thing, and they both know exactly what is going through the other's mind.

 _Someday_.

The crowd goes wild when the bride and groom kiss, both of them squeezing their new spouse's ass as they do. The sons grimace and Blaine covers their eyes. Kurt watches Cooper beaming at his wife and thinks it's beautiful, seeing someone so completely, unabashedly in love. He glances at Blaine, who he realises is looking at him the same way. They both laugh and go a little pink.

Blaine gets tied up with lots of best man duties for a while, but Kurt's happy to mingle and sip the free champagne. He watches various couples and groups chatting excitedly, some already dancing, and he sighs with a smile. He was a little nervous about suddenly being on display for people Blaine is apparently close to, but they're all smiling and welcoming him and telling him they're glad he could make it.

Even the groom's parents.

Which Kurt finds a little odd, to say the least.

"Gosh, Kurt," the mother says, "it's so fantastic to finally meet you!"

"It sure is, son. We've heard so much about you."

Kurt's a little blindsided by all the affection from Blaine's friend's parents, but he smiles and nods as the father gives his hand a firm shake and the mother pulls him into a massive hug.

"Really?"

"Well, of course! Honestly, we were starting to think our little Blainey was making you up!"

"Oh! Well, I promise, I'm real!"

They both laugh with a level of gusto that he doesn't think they're faking. "Oh, that is such a Kurt thing to say! He told us you were funny!"

"You know, he really is smitten with you. Should we start planning for more wedding bells?"

Before he can figure out what's happening, Blaine is at his side, hugging the mother. It looks like he's trying to shut her up, which is… well, fair.

"What are we all talking about over here?"

"Oh, nothing, sweetheart," she winks exaggeratedly at Kurt, "just getting to know your boyfriend. He's every bit as handsome as you said!"

"And of course," the father adds, trying to be serious despite his hiccups, "we were just asking about his intentions."

"Guys! I told you not to be weird!"

"Well, Blaine, you two have been hooking up for almost a year – oh honey, don't look so scandalised, I was your age once – and I paid far too much for this hat to only wear it once."

Kurt's face is on fire. Blaine's smile is forced. "Right, well, maybe we should help get the room set up-"

"Oh, it's all under control. You really are the most adorable couple, though," they can't help smiling a little at that, "we didn't think Blaine would ever let any of his boyfriends meet us!" Kurt's on the verge of asking if they're always this invested in their son's friends' love lives when she goes on: "I'm sure he's told you that we're the most embarrassing parents in the world, but it's only because we love him so much." Blaine looks apologetically at Kurt while his mother pinches his cheek.

His mother.

Shit.

He immediately feels an urge to say something witty and charming and make a good impression, but his phone's vibrating in his pocket.

There's only one reason anyone could call him right now. His friends all know he's busy. He was sure this call wouldn't come until Monday, but somehow he just knows this is it. Confirmation.

Double shit.

He squeezes Blaine's elbow as reassuringly as he can before nodding at the Andersons.

"I'm so sorry, but I have to step outside for just a second. I promise I'll be right back; I swear I wouldn't normally-"

"No, sweetie, don't worry!" Blaine's mother gushes. "Things won't get started up here for a while anyway."

"Kurt? I can explain-"

"No, Blaine, really, it's fine. I just need a minute." He kisses Blaine's cheek then heads for a balcony out of everyone's way, pulling his phone out. He can hear Blaine whispering angrily at his parents as he leaves, but he can't take anything else in right now. This is it.

"Mom! I can't believe this. Twenty seconds and you've scared him off."

"He would have figured it out, bumblebee," his dad says, giving him a hug. "We promise we'll be nice."

Blaine returns the hug, then moves onto his mother. "Lovely to see you both, anyway. You look great."

"And so do you, darling. Gosh, the way he was looking at you, Blaine. It'll take a lot more than us to scare him off."

Blaine looks out of the window to see Kurt turned away from them, on the phone. "You really think so?"

"Definitely. Oh, your father looked at me like that, once upon a time, before you boys ruined my figure." She snuggles against her husband, the three of them all perfectly aware that he has looked at her with nothing but pure adoration for the last thirty-five years. "Oh, this is all so romantic. Come on, let's go and give those poor bridesmaids a hand. You go and get your man and figure things out so we can all have a dance later. He better save a song for me; he looks like a good mover."

"You have no idea," he says with a wink. "Thanks, Mom." He kisses her on the cheek and gives his dad another hug, and goes out to find Kurt. When he does, he's a white as a sheet, staring at his phone. "Kurt?" When Kurt looks at him he can't help rushing over to him. He's seen that kind of shock on his face before. "Has something happened? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I'm fine, I promise."

"Look, I'm really sorry I didn't tell you. I don't know why I didn't – I just didn't want you to freak out about meeting my family, and I guess once I'd already not said straight away it just seemed weird and there was never a good time. It felt stupid just coming out with it later. I don't know, but I feel awful about it and I hate that I kept anything from you. I'm sorry."

"I'm having a baby."

"What?"

"A baby. I'm having a baby in two months."

Blaine's hand had been holding Kurt's, but it falls to his side.

"A baby?" Kurt nods.

There's a long pause. It feels longer.

"Well. I don't feel so bad about my thing now."

"I'm sorry, I wanted to tell you-"

"Please tell me this isn't some kind of double life thing and you've got a wife and six kids out in Connecticut somewhere. Don't wanna be rude, but I don't think you could pull it off."

Kurt laughs. "No, I couldn't. And I haven't."

"So...? More information?"

"The day I met you, Blaine. My birthday. I told you I couldn't do a long term thing, right?"

"Right. Congrats on sticking to that, by the way."

"Okay, I deserved that. But anyway, that was because I'd just sent off an application to adopt a kid. Well, an application to start the process, all the checks and meetings and endless paperwork and- and now I'm having a baby. Really soon. I swear, I only met her a week ago. They literally just called to confirm. I couldn't say until I was sure."

Blaine looks very serious. Kurt waits.

"So you've been trying to adopt for a year."

"Almost."

"But then you met me."

"But then I met you. And I thought maybe it could just be casual until I got some news."

Kurt could swear he can see cogs turning in Blaine's mind as he thinks back over the last year.

"That explains a lot."

"Probably. But casual with you was a terrible idea."

"It was."

"Blaine, I've had this conversation with you in my head a thousand times, but it always made me sad. Because it always involved phrases like 'so I can't see you any more' or 'so this isn't going to work' or maybe just a Blaine-shaped hole in my door."

"Why?"

"I didn't think you wanted kids."

"You never asked."

"You're twenty-two! You were so cool and young and you were telling me I had to get better at one-night stands-"

"Well yeah, but only with me."

"You came back to my place the first night we met."

"Where we had a glorified slumber party and talked about animals and cuddled."

"I know. Look, I know exactly how stupid all of this is. I swear, I get it, and I totally understand if you want to break up just because of my stupidity."

Kurt realises just how many words are falling out of his mouth and pauses. Blaine's face is impossible to read as he looks Kurt dead in the eyes.

"You're having a baby."

"I am. Take as long as you need to process that. But preferably less than two months, because, you know. Baby."

Blaine leans heavily on the railing of the balcony and takes a very deep, slow breath.

"So you thought this would mean us breaking up."

"I guess I did."

"And now? Are we breaking up?"

Kurt's heart clenches at the hurt in Blaine's voice and he lays a gentle hand on the small of his back.

"I- I don't know."

Blaine stands up straight, still looking at the horizon.

"Wait. The room."

"What?"

Blaine spins to face Kurt.

"That room in your house. The one you don't let me go in. It's a nursery, isn't it?" Kurt nods. Blaine's expression goes from 'gotcha' to heartbroken in a heartbeat. "And your friend. You said your friend lost a baby. It wasn't just a friend."

Kurt shakes his head.

"Oh, God, Kurt. I'm so sorry." He reaches up to cup Kurt's cheek, and even now it's just so easy between them. Kurt closes his eyes for a moment and he leans into the touch.

"I don't know how I would have got through it without you. I was putting off telling you anything because it wasn't set in stone, and I didn't want to have to break up with you if I didn't know for sure. If I'd told you before it happened, I would have had to"-

"I still would have been there if you'd wanted me."

"I know."

They stand face to face for a moment, holding hands. They should feel uncomfortable. They should want to cry or run away or hide, but they don't. If nothing else, Kurt knows he doesn't want to be without Blaine.

Blaine is the one to break the silence. "So. What now?"

"I don't know. I don't want to push you into anything, or make you feel like you have to – I can do this on my own."

"I'm sure you can."

"I mean, I've been ready to do this alone for a long time. That's been my plan for almost a year. I'm definitely capable of doing this by myself."

"I'm sure you could."

"I've done stuff by myself before. Lots of stuff."

"You have."

"I came to New York by myself, and I got my first writing job by myself, and I can do this too."

"Stop. Without worrying about what I'm going to think, what do you want? If you could be totally selfish, what would be your ideal scenario here?"

Kurt doesn't answer. He's been so wrapped up in what other people would think and want for so long, he's not sure how to be selfish any more.

"Look, Kurt," Blaine continues, "nobody believes more than me that you _could_ do this by yourself. You could do anything by yourself. You could probably build a rocket ship, or sail around the world, and you could definitely be the best single working dad in the universe. I wouldn't doubt it for a second. But what if- what if you did this with me instead?"

Kurt hardly dares to believe him, to let himself get too excited.

"Are you serious?"

Blaine nods.

"Bear with me. There's the sensible option, where you stick with your plan. And every day you can come home, pay the nanny, and have a baby all to yourself. Great. Meanwhile I'm somewhere else, all alone, pining for the one that got away. But what if there was another option? An option where you come home to me. Me, our baby, dinner, a bath, maybe some sleepy attempt at sex. And when she cries in the middle of the night, we can take turns getting her, and when she takes her first steps and says her first words and starts school and… Kurt, I could be there for all of it. You and me and the baby. We could be a family." Kurt swallows, trying not to fixate on Blaine saying 'her' without even knowing he was right. "They're both good options. What do you want?"

"I want you." He has to a think a little. "I mean, Blaine, the last thing I ever want to do is pressure you into anything. Because that wouldn't be right. But if I could have anything, it would be you and me and the baby. You move into my place and we really go for it. All in." Blaine squeezes his hand tighter, a smile tugging at his lips. "This whole time I've been trying to figure out what I want more, you or the baby, but I can never decide. Because my favourite picture is both of you. But if it's not what you really want, I get it, because you're young and this is a lot to take in and you shouldn't do anything out of obligation because that's not how I want my family to start. But I want my family to have you in it. If you'll stay."

"Kurt, did you hear a word I just said?" He takes both of Kurt's hands in his, kissing them in turn. "Wait - what changed? If you thought this conversation would be an automatic break up?"

"I don't know. That night on the roof when I felt like the world was going to disappear and you somehow made me feel real again. The warm feeling I get in my chest every time you call me your boyfriend. Your painting in my office. And then you crashed into my house drunk a week ago and told me you wanted to have babies with me; that might've helped."

Blaine's eyes widen and his cheeks go pink.

"Oh, shit. Did I say that?"

"Did you mean it?"

Blaine grins, throws his arms around Kurt's neck and kisses him. It almost knocks Kurt out, but he manages to steady himself on the railing and kiss Blaine back.

"I'm in."

"Are you serious?"

Blaine nods. "Totally serious. Let's do this. Let's have a baby."

"Are you really sure? I mean, this can't be what you planned, having a kid before you graduate."

"Well, not exactly. My plan was to have my own exhibition in the MET by now. And I hadn't planned on falling in love with the stupidest man on the planet, but that happened anyway. Kurt, I've been fantasising about a future with you for months, and now we're just speeding it up."

"Even the baby?"

He nods again. "Kurt, I'm deadly serious about wanting kids with you. So, we start a little early. I love babies."

"You never said-"

"Again, you never asked. When I was six, I was a stay-at-home dad for Halloween. I wore my mom's apron and my dad's glasses and I ran into a tree because the prescription was too strong. Got a concussion. Don't worry, I won't let that happen to our kid."

"Our kid?"

"If that's okay?"

It was Kurt's turn to blindside Blaine with a kiss. He even lifts him up and spins them both. "More than okay. Perfect. Oh my god, Blaine, we're doing this. We're having a baby."

"I'm having a baby with the dumbest man ever to walk the earth. I can't believe you didn't tell me."

"I didn't want to lose you."

Blaine's grin softens into something gentler, calmer. He steps into Kurt's arms and presses their foreheads together. "You won't. Ever. We should probably go inside soon. And maybe tell my family. Have you told yours?"

Kurt nods. "You're actually the last person I've told. And you're going to be her dad. You're right; I'm really stupid."

"Her? It's a girl?" Kurt nods, smiling. He pulls the picture out of his pocket. He's had it with him every day since he met Susie. "Wow, Kurt. That's her." He's a little breathless. "That's our kid. I know I've only known about her for two minutes but I think I love her. Is that weird?"

"Not weird. Good."

"So good. Oh, man, my mom's going to freak out. She loves Coop's kids, but she's always wanted a girl in the family."

"Are you sure they won't think it's crazy? Too fast?"

"Kurt, my new sister-in law is wearing robots on her wedding dress, and my nephews are already five and seven, born way out of wedlock. They're not perfect, but they're _really_ not judgemental. They might even be more excited than you."

"I highly doubt it. Okay, how about we tell them tomorrow? Let the bride and groom have their day. Then we can go and get your stuff and take it to my place. Sam'll be relieved not to have to put up with us anymore."

"And I guess I'll still see him at work. Ooh, do you think I can get paternity leave?"

"From Starbucks?"

"At this point, I'd have the baby myself if it meant a few months off."

"Well, I don't want to be presumptuous or take away your independence or anything, but-"

Blaine's whole face lights up even more than it had already. "Is this going where I think it's going? Can I quit my job?!"

Kurt laughs. "I don't see why not. We don't need the money. And you'd have more time for painting; you said you hate not having time for art. You might change your mind when you're changing every other diaper, but-"

"But nothing. We'll make sure she learns how to say 'please' and 'thank you' and then she'll be nicer than ninety percent of the people I serve every day. Oh my god, Kurt. A person. A little girl, our little girl, and we'll be her parents. Every single day, we'll wake up together, and we'll have a daughter." He has to pause to swallow and take a shaky breath. Kurt squeezes his hands.

"Are you okay? Are you sure you want this?"

Blaine nods with a sniff and a few quick blinks.

"It's just- every time you used to say that we had to be short-term and that you couldn't do a commitment, I always convinced myself it was fine, but- god, Kurt, I've wanted this since I left you that stupid post-it note the morning after we met. When you didn't call me, it broke my heart. And it broke every time you- I thought we wanted totally different things. I never thought you-"

"You remember the post-it?"

"I think I still have the first six drafts of it."

"Well I still have the final one in my nightstand."

Blaine stares at Kurt helplessly. Kurt wipes a tear from his cheek. They both jump at the click of the door behind them, and look up to see Blaine's parents.

"Kurt, are you making my son cry?"

"And before we've even taken all the pictures?"

Blaine does that little squeaky laugh-cry Kurt's only heard a few times when he's been frustrated over a piece for college or when he's fought with Sam and Kurt's managed to make him smile. Even now it makes something twist in his chest, an urge to hold him and make it all better. He realises, with a relief that could make him melt, that there's nothing to stop him from holding him now. That he never has to hold back again when it comes to Blaine, to holding him and committing to him. To loving him for the rest of his life. He wraps an arm around his waist and kisses his temple, and Blaine leans into him, snuggling against his shoulder.

"Sorry, Mrs Anderson. I promise we'll get him cleaned up before the speeches start."

She smiles. "You okay buttercup?"

Blaine smiles sheepishly at Kurt and back at his mother. "Super okay."

"Right. Well, we'd really appreciate if you could give our bank accounts time to recover from this wedding before we have to shell out for another one, if it's not too much trouble."

Blaine's father snorts. "Fat chance. Look at them. There's gonna be a Christening before they even get to a wedding."

Blaine has to bury his face in Kurt's chest. Kurt barely keeps it together when he says "One step at a time, Pam. I believe we have some dancing to do first."

They can't keep their eyes off each other for the rest of the night. Even when Blaine makes his speech, all he can look at is Kurt.

"So, what I really want to say is that all jokes aside, and forgetting the occasional broken arm," he looks pointedly at the groom and there's a ripple of laughter from the audience, "Cooper really is the best brother a guy could ask for. And he and Katie are like the gold standard of couples. Honestly, if ten years down the line I'm half as in love as you two are, I'll be a happy man."

Kurt kisses his hand and smiles.

Cooper says "Gross."

His wife chips in with "If we're ever half as gross as you guys, we'll break up."

They high five without even looking.

"Anyway, you're both great people, and great parents, and you've just shown the entire room how perfect you are for each other. I love you both, and I'm very sorry for the amount of parental kissing your kids are going to have to see tonight. To Cooper and Katie!"

While the crowd joins in the toast and Cooper tells everyone to make their way to the dancefloor, Blaine leans in close and whispers in Kurt's ear: "Our kid is going to have to put up with way more kissing. Way more. Come on, let's dance."

They run to join everyone else watching Cooper and Katie's first dance (an intricately choreographed routine to 'Uptown Funk'), and they can't leave each other alone, dancing and kissing and laughing until they can't breathe. After a few glasses of champagne, some very inappropriate hip-locked dance moves, and a drunken confession from Cooper that he thinks Kurt is 'the bees knees' and has 'the sweetest dude butt I've ever seen', they're swaying together on the dancefloor, one of the few couples left standing. They could keep going for days.

"Blaine?"

"Mm?" Blaine asks without moving his head from Kurt's shoulder.

"This is the happiest I've ever been."

"Me too."

"And you getting excited about being a father is one of the most adorable but also incredibly sexy things I've ever seen."

Blaine raises an eyebrow. "I know that voice."

"I know you do."

"Let's go."

They say their rushed goodbyes, which are ignored by the bride and groom who are far too busy making out against a wall while the older Mr and Mrs Anderson take their grandsons up to their hotel room. Kurt and Blaine grip each other's hands so hard as they scramble up to their own room that their knuckles turn white.

Blaine pushes Kurt against a wall, kissing Kurt's neck until he gasps.

Then he makes a surprised 'ooh!' sound.

Blaine looks up.

"Something wrong? That wasn't a new move."

"No, no, it's-" He pulls his vibrating phone out of his pocket, ready to switch it straight off, until he stops to look at the screen. It's Susie. Kurt's stomach lurches as he answers. "Hello? Yes, yes, this is Kurt. What? Yes, I told him." Blaine looks at him in confusion. Kurt shrugs. "Uh-huh. Well, yeah we're- he's in."

Blaine grins, kissing Kurt's jaw slowly. "Or at least he will be soon." Kurt can barely keep in a giggle.

"Um, was there anything else?" Blaine starts to undo one of the buttons on Kurt's shirt, when Kurt grabs his arm. He does the button up again. "Why didn't you start with that? Oh my god, Blaine, she- yes, of course. We'll be there as soon as we can. Love you! Bye!"

He hangs up, and Blaine is staring at him, wide-eyed.

"Is she-?"

"Did I just say 'love you'? I've only met her once. Was that weird?"

"Kurt, if you don't tell me what's happening right now-"

"The baby's coming. We're having a baby right now."

"Oh my god."

"Oh my god."

"We need to go, right?"

"Oh god, I don't have anything. I should have a bag – I don't have any diapers or clothes for her or anything. I don't even have the car."

"Kurt, there's too much alcohol and crazy in your system to drive anywhere right now. We can call someone and get them to bring stuff. I have cash for a cab to the hospital. We can get our stuff some other time. All we need is phones, wallets, keys, and to get our asses to the hospital. Got it?"

Kurt squeezes both of Blaine's hands, trying not to tremble too much.

"It's too soon."

Blaine smiles.

"Shouldn't I be the one saying that? You've had longer to get ready than I have."

"Blaine." The excitement from before has left Kurt's eyes, and fear has taken its place. "Two months. She's two months early." His face is just like it was on the roof all those months ago. He looks so lost he could slip away at any second. Blaine grips his hands tighter.

"Look at me." He does. His breath catches in his throat. "All we can do right now is go to the hospital and be there for Susie." Kurt nods, blinking quickly, still uncertain. "Hey." Blaine kisses him softly and slowly, giving Kurt time to register his presence, real and physical and close. "She's going to be fine. She's going to be in a hospital with the best doctors in the world. And whatever happens, I'm not going anywhere, okay? We're getting through this together."

Kurt takes a deep breath and nods. "Okay. Let's do this." He pulls Blaine into a hug and kisses his cheek. "Let's go have a baby."

"Oh, but don't forget your glasses. Your eyes are going to get tired if you wear your contacts much longer… what? What are you smiling at?"

Somehow that's everything. Blaine knowing Kurt, being able to calm him down, looking after both of them without even having to think about it.

Kurt kisses his forehead. "You. Always you."

They blink and they're sitting under bright lights, the seats next to them occupied with empty Styrofoam cups. Their knuckles aren't white any more. They've both spoken to Susie, who has nodded wisely at Blaine and given her official approval. Now her sister is with her, so Kurt and Blaine are waiting outside the delivery room. It's been seven hours. There's some drool on Kurt's sleeve where Blaine has fallen asleep on him, but some nearby screams have since woken them both up. It wasn't Susie. They checked.

"I'm gonna be honest. I always thought this would be more dramatic."

"Trust me. Not-dramatic is good."

"I'm sorry," Blaine says, leaning down to kiss Kurt's shoulder, "they said everything's fine, remember. She's early, but she's okay."

"I know, I know. God, I just want to see her. I'd feel so much better if I could see her."

"Soon, darling. I promise. She's on her way."

"So, 'always', huh? How often have you thought about this?"

"Well, I've tried not to think about it since you've been all fake-scared-of-commitment. So, basically every day for the last year."

"Nerd," Kurt mutters, leaning against Blaine.

"And before you, I'd guess pretty much every day forever. I mean, when I was a kid, I was always happiest when I was with my big stupid family. Sunday dinners, holidays, whenever. I always wanted that."

"And soon we're gonna have it. Imagine us and our baby at Christmas. Calling the kids down for dinner every evening and listening to them talk about school. Having our parents round. We may need a bigger house."

"Kids – plural? Wow. This morning I was just a twenty-two-year-old and now I'm married with kids."

"I never said married."

"Oh, right. That was me. But maybe we should deal with one huge, life-altering thing at a time."

"Agreed." Kurt lifts Blaine's hand and presses a kiss into his palm. "Someday though, right?"

"Definitely." They both smile and snuggle into each other a little more. "So what are you most looking forward to?"

"You mean apart from when she's elected President?"

"Of course."

Kurt has to stop and think. It's not really a question he's asked himself. Being a father is just this urge he's always had, a general feeling.

"I can't wait for her to talk. I want to hear what she's thinking about. I hope I can make her feel really heard."

"You will. We'll make sure she can always talk to us. She'll know that she's interesting and important. Like, we'll be so open and honest about everything that it'll embarrass her."

"Sounds perfect. What about you? What are you excited about?"

Blaine sighs.

"Okay, I know it's obvious, but I want to paint with her. I want to be really obnoxious and frame every single finger painting she does. Oh, and singing! We can sing to her, and later she can join in. Long road trips listening to showtunes and singing along to everything. Especially when she's in darker phases, and we'll sing and do stupid dances to every song until she can't help smiling."

"God, she's going to be the most annoyed kid in the world. I wonder what she's going to find funny? I mean, we'll be the ones who shape her sense of humour and all of her tastes. Until she turns about thirteen and decides everything we like is lame."

"And she'll probably be right."

"We'll have to find out about periods so we can teach her what to do."

"Rachel and Santana have promised to give me lessons. And I'm sure your mom will be happy to help."

"We won't be able to keep them away. And Cooper's kids are going to be really excited about their new cousin."

"God, of course! She already has a whole family of Andersons waiting for her. I can barely get my head around how excited my parents are."

"Hey, we're more than enough family for now. Right now I just want you, me and her. That's all I need."

"Me too. I'm so excited about later, about her first words and steps and all the memories we're going to make, but right now I'd give anything just to hold her."

As if by magic, at that moment, a woman in scrubs scuttles past them and into the room behind them. They both sit up straight. The woman pops her head out again.

"It's time, gentlemen. You can come in."

Susie has given them strict instructions beforehand to stay out of the way while it's happening, and she has told them she will not be held responsible for any physical damage she may do them if they go against these instructions. Her sister is fantastic, toeing the line between drill sergeant and best friend. She tells her she's doing brilliantly, then orders her not to quit, because there's only room for one baby here right now, then wipes the sweat from her forehead. It seems like an odd approach, but it's clearly exactly what Susie told her she wanted. The determination on her face is like nothing Kurt or Blaine have ever seen. It's loud and messy and scary, but with one small cry nothing else matters.

She's tiny and wriggling, and people are cleaning her off and wrapping her up. They want to shout, to tell them to be gentle, that's she's very very small, but they hold back. The doctor shows the bundle to Susie, who points to the other side of the room, where two men are sitting on a bench, trembling.

"She belongs over there."

It's not until the baby is in his arms and he lets out a sob that Kurt realises he's been holding his breath. The worry, the pain, the loss, is all worth it. Kurt has his daughter in his arms and the man he loves next to him, crying just as much as he is. They both whisper 'hello' and 'hi' and grin like idiots. They both know that new-borns can't focus their eyes enough yet to look at anything, but it feels like she's staring at them both in turn, sussing them out.

Blaine takes her hand between his fingers. Kurt looks at him, suit rumpled and eyes glistening and sheer disbelief plastered all over his face as he stares at the baby, awestruck. "Have you ever loved anything this much in your whole life?"

Kurt smiles. "Just one thing." He kisses Blaine softly, resting his forehead in Blaine's hair where curls are loosening. His glasses get knocked askew and he doesn't bother adjusting them. Exhausted, messy, they take another moment to gaze at their daughter.


	6. Chapter 6

Pamela Lansbury, thanks to their location, are the first ones to meet Grace. They are loud and excited. Then the many, many Andersons crowd into the house – Cooper and Katie postponed their honeymoon because this is more important and Cooper "can't wait to see how my baby brother is coping with sudden parenthood" – and are even louder and more excited. The boys are thrilled to have a brand new baby cousin, and Blaine's mother is ecstatic that she finally has a little girl to fawn over ("but sweetheart, if later on you don't feel like a girl deep down, we'll all love you just as much"). They're still there when Burt and Carole arrive, looking more than a little dishevelled.

Kurt is surprised that the others… aren't surprised. He'd expected Burt to be a little more shocked that he and Blaine were being parents together, about how suddenly he decided to commit. Maybe he was still just trying to process it himself. When he speaks to his father about it, Burt just shrugs.

"The fact that you actually told us about a guy you were dating showed me how serious you were about him. Kurt, I'll always be your dad, but I think it's time for me to step back and let you have your turn now. As long as you're happy, I'm happy."

Kurt looks at the baby nestled in the crook of Blaine's elbow, the various family members surrounding them, and at Blaine smiling back at him. There's no worry in his chest, no questions itching in his brain. He doesn't have a single doubt.

"I'm definitely happy."

Burt grins. "I know. Well, I'm guessing you two have been pretty overwhelmed the last few days."

"You're guessing right." Kurt sips what must be his eighth coffee that day.

"How about we all get out of your hair? I'll take these guys to lunch and talk about how great you boys are."

"You're the best, dad. And tell me what they say about me."

"Of course. So, to sum up this visit: Grace is awesome. Your boyfriend is fantastic. You're going to be great at this."

He almost laughs at the term 'boyfriend', which now seems so trivial with everything they've been through. They'll have to come up with something else.

"She is. He is. And I'll try. Thanks, Dad."

Burt manages to get the Andersons to insist on paying for lunch for all of them (" _you've just flown all the way out here! No way are we letting you pay for anything! Do you have accommodation? You're welcome to stay in our guest house if you're worried about putting these two out_ …") and the three of them are finally alone again.

Kurt thinks he would be happy to spend every day like this. He sits with Blaine on the sofa, and they alternate between cooing over Grace and whispering to each other about how happy and in love they are.

"How long until she needs another feed?"

"Two hours." Kurt smiles to himself for the millionth time in the last three days, thinking how good Blaine is at this. He's fallen so easily into a routine with her; nobody would guess he'd only found out about her existence that week. He's every bit as smitten as Kurt is, both of them definitely her father. "She's already dozing off. It's been an exciting day, hasn't it baby? You've met all of your grandparents, and your aunt and uncle, and your cousins! When you're older, you're gonna be so much smarter than them, yes you are!"

"How about we put her down, and then we go nap too?"

He's wearing one of Kurt's shirts, because they're still trying to find time to move his stuff into the house, and it's a little too big and it's rumpled and everything about the man in his arms makes his heart melt.

In something of a daze, they put Grace in her crib and turn the baby monitor on, then go to the next room and get straight under the covers. Kurt tugs Blaine close and they talk about Grace, their families, and giraffes until they drift off.

Kurt wakes up alone. He rubs his eyes and hauls himself up and follows Blaine's mumbles into Grace's room.

He's sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the crib, staring at Grace with a calm smile, then scribbling and shading.

"Sure. You're almost out of underwear, but you have a sketchpad here."

"Of course; I'm not an animal. This is why you love me. And we can go get more stuff tomorrow. I just got up to look at her and- I couldn't help myself. She's so perfect."

"You're not wrong." Kurt sits close behind him, kissing his neck and snaking his hands under the shirt so he can tease at Blaine's stomach.

Blaine smirks, but keeps drawing. "You know, if I fuck up this drawing because of you then… I'll get over it, to be honest." He turns to kiss Kurt, and neither of them has enough energy to do any more, but they're content just sitting on the floor, kissing.

"How about we put this on the wall when it's done?" The walls are cream with little stars in different pastel colours stencilled in a border near the ceiling. There's a space ready for the perfect picture, whether it's a photograph or something Blaine creates. "It looks good so far."

"I don't know. I think I might have a better idea for that space."

Kurt frowns. "Oh?"

Blaine taps his nose. "All in good time."

 **July**

In all honesty, Kurt completely forgets about this over the course of the next few months. They are so busy, so full of glee that the time disappears until Blaine's graduation starts looming ever closer. Blaine's things find new places in their house. Kurt is able to work from home, so he and Blaine can be together with the baby as much as possible. The city heats up, and Blaine starts to hide himself for hours at a time with his paints, canvasses, and laptop in the study, which finds a new purpose as a studio. Kurt is not allowed inside it.

When Blaine's graduation day finally arrives, Kurt contemplates talking to some of the other graduates, getting to know Blaine's classmates, but he doubts anyone but Grace would appreciate his critiques of the other pieces.

"Come on, his has got to be around somewhere. You know, you're really not much help, young lady."

Grace stares at him, utterly deadpan expression, blowing spit bubbles in his general direction.

"Fine. I don't need your help. You don't appreciate art anyway. Philistine."

She is unfazed, and settles her head on his shoulder. He kisses the wisps of hair dusting her head. He knows she can't really understand him at 4 months old, but he can't help feeling like she gets him on a level that nobody else does but Blaine. They approach a row of pieces that he knows aren't Blaine's, but it feels rude to rush straight past them. And he wants to save the best for last.

There's a nude figure, beautiful, tastefully composed from the slope of spine to the curve of breasts. It's impressive.

"Now, we know that's not Daddy's. Because she's a lady, and Daddy isn't really into those. Although, they may identify as male, regardless of their anatomy. Never assume anyone's gender, sweetheart." He's determined to instill ideas of equality in Grace's mind, even if she can't technically speak yet. "And of course, all bodies are beautiful. But we still know this isn't Daddy's, because if he's going to paint anybody naked, it's going to be other Daddy. Don't worry, you won't have to see those." They walk up to a much edgier piece – he's not exactly sure what it's supposed to be, but he's fairly certain all the red is meant to be blood. "And this is a little too dark. Not really Daddy's style, huh? Although," he has to take Grace's hand to make sure she doesn't try to grab the painting, "maybe it is yours. Okay, let's go away from the scary picture before I have to look into baby therapists."

He turns away, glancing at a sculpture made of bicycle parts, another one that seems like a skull fashioned out of tin cans (this is all decades behind the fashion world, but Kurt tries to look past it) but then his focus is pulled by one piece that he knows is Blaine's. It's only small, and from a distance it seems simple. A few years ago, Kurt would have said that all babies looked basically the same, but this painting is unmistakably Grace.

He steps closer.

It's so much more than Grace. It's them. It's every part of them. In gentle tones of yellow and pink, there are dozens of tiny snapshots layered together: Grace asleep the night they brought her home; the two of them dancing at Cooper and Katie's wedding, Blaine laughing into Kurt's shoulder; Kurt with Grace in his lap, both of them beaming at each other; the three of them grinning in front of the giraffes at the zoo; Blaine asleep with Grace dozing on his chest.

The border, encompassing all of these memories, surrounding their little girl, fades from the bottom, the burst of colour that matches the first painting of Kurt Blaine ever did, up to the view from Blaine's roof that night they spent talking, crying, holding each other, finally allowing themselves to be honest. The night all of this became possible. The tiny, almost imperceptible gold stars at the very top match the ones on Grace's walls.

Kurt spots one pink square, probably insignificant to anyone else – a post-it note with a phone number inside a heart.

Each piece has to have accompanying notes. Kurt clutches his daughter close when he reads this one.

 _All In_

 _Art, for me at least, is about expression. Saying something you can't find words for. This is an expression of the thing that has allowed me to feel so much, and so deeply, in a way I never could have anticipated. Every day this feels new and wonderful and I am constantly amazed and continuously happy. I have been told that art is about pain, anger, heartbreak, but I just do not have any of these to express. This could only have been about joy. The person who started this degree is a very different person to the one who painted this in a lot of ways. The main difference: I am happy. My heart is full. It is full of this._

All Kurt can do is stare as a tear rolls down his cheek, when there is suddenly a voice at his side.

"I reckon I can get at least fifty bucks for this old thing. Thoughts?"

At first, Kurt keeps staring at the painting and just gives Blaine a gentle shove in the side. He doesn't even have time to wipe the tears from his eyes before he turns and pulls Blaine into a hug.

"How about we put it in the space on her wall you've deliberately left empty for months?"

Blaine smiles, his boyfriend on one side, his daughter on the other, drooling on his cheek. All he notices is the warmth of her skin, the softness of her breathing. He wishes he could go and tell his six-year-old self in his 'dad' costume that it would eventually be even better than he imagined.

"That could work too."

Kurt keeps hugging Blaine longer than he normally would in public. He normally finds PDA tacky, but today he can't bring himself to care. Blaine takes the opportunity to bury his face in Kurt's neck while Grace pulls on his ear. They eventually pull back, both a little pink and giggly. They haven't even started on the champagne yet.

"It's stunning, Blaine. You're so- I'm so proud of you. You've worked so hard and it's perfect. You're so amazing." He squeezes Blaine's hand.

"Oh god, Kurt, I'm so glad you like it. And I'm really glad you haven't had to go into the office much the last couple of months because I don't know how else I would have got this done." He looks at Grace, pulling the customary stupid smiley face. "And what did this one think of it, huh?" He lifts her out of Kurt's arms, kissing her cheek before hugging her close to his chest. "Do you like Daddy's painting, Gracie? Do you think they'll let me graduate so I can stop hiding away from you in a tiny room full of paint fumes? Look, baby, that's you! Can you say 'painting'? Can you say 'montage'? Can you say 'conceptual art'?" She can say neither of these things. "God, I know I've been in the same house but I've missed you both so much." He kisses Kurt, giving his ass a squeeze. "And I've _really_ missed this."

"Good thing we've got forever, I guess."

"Yes it is," Blaine agrees, beaming. "Okay, they want us to go and line up, so I should probably go. Here you go, baby," he passes Grace back to Kurt. "I love you both. I'll see you on the ice."

Kurt clings to Blaine's hand. "Don't watch this, Grace." She occupies herself trying to eat her own hands while Kurt kisses Blaine properly, leaving them both a little dazed. "You're incredible. Go get that piece of paper."

They both watch as Blaine gets a scroll, shakes a hand, and moves his tassel from one side to the other. Kurt tries to show Grace how to clap, but it doesn't take. He settles for a loud wolf-whistle.

He reaches into his pocket just to check the velvet box is still there.

Something about 'boyfriend' doesn't feel right any more. And although 'that guy I have a baby with' was hilarious for a while, he knows 'husband' is going to sound so much better.

On his thirtieth birthday, Kurt Hummel was asked if he was giving up on love. At thirty-one, he has more love in his life than he ever thought possible. And he wouldn't change a single thing.

* * *

That's it! Thank you so much for your patience with this story - the feedback has been lovely. Please let me know what you think of this final chapter; I hope it was worth the wait!


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